


Tales of Aren Brosca: Recruitment: The Beginning

by N7Inquisitor



Series: Tales of Aren Brosca [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Casteless Dwarves, City Elves, Denerim, Dwarf Commoner Origin, Dwarves, Elves, Ferelden, Gen, Grey Wardens, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Qunari, Soldier's Peak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N7Inquisitor/pseuds/N7Inquisitor
Summary: Aren Brosca has defeated the Archdemon, The Mother, helped Dace in Amgarrak Thaig and found Morrigan. Now, it's up to him to rebuild the Wardens and prepare them for what comes next.





	1. The Beginning

Tales of Aren Brosca

Recruitment: The Beginning

 

            Aren Brosca, Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, looked out over the mountains in Soldier’s Keep. After Morrigan had left through the eluvian, he had finished business with Ariane and Finn and went back to Vigil’s Keep. There, he officially relinquished command of the Arling of Amaranthine back to the Howes. Nathaniel decided to stay there and help his family settle back in. Velanna had run off to the Deep Roads in search of her sister, Seranni. It appeared that Sigrun had gone with her on her Calling. Anders had been possessed by Justice and had taken off somewhere. That left only Alistair and Oghren. Unfortunately, Alistair, as the most senior Warden, was called to Weisshaupt to report about the Fifth Blight and the Darkspawn Civil War. Oghren was called to the Free Marches to help with training new recruits. That left Aren, all by himself.

He breathed in the mountain air, finally used to seeing the sun and sky. No longer did he fear falling up into it. A smile reached his eyes as he remembered first coming to the surface. It was blindingly bright. He didn’t know how topsiders stayed on the ground. Eventually, he learned that he would always stay on the ground. If he jumped, he came back down.

There was a breeze that carried the cold from the south and it irritated the scars on his brand. Burn marks, scratch marks and cuts from a knife, he tried many things to get that thing off his face, the thing that marked him as casteless, as nothing. He was now finally something. Not just a Warden, not just a Warden-Commander, he was a Paragon, a living Ancestor. From a brand to a Paragon, he couldn’t believe it. Now his family sat pretty in the Diamond Quarter. They were a warrior house, allied with powerful noble and smith houses.

            Barkspawn came beside Aren and nuzzled his head into Aren’s hand. He scratched behind the mabari’s ears and smoothed the fur on his head. Barkspawn wagged his nub of a tail and panted. Aren looked down and smiled at the dog. Sadly, the title of Warden-Commander ran a bit hollow without any wardens to command. Aren had been making plans to visit different places of Ferelden and recruit anyone willing and had enough skill. Hopefully, some would survive. It was miraculous how many survived during the Darkspawn Civil War, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Oghren, Mhairi was the only one to die. Hopefully, the same luck would hold.

            His plan was to visit Denerim first and see what the capital held. Then he would head to the Brecilian Forest and hopefully find a Dalish clan, now that the land belonged to them. Then off to Lothering and up to Orzammar. Of course, he had to send word before he arrived, he was a Paragon after all. They probably had statues of him up by now. Aren rolled his eyes and scoffed at that. Then to the Circle Tower and then down into a Deep Roads entrance he had discovered between here and Kinloch Hold. He had a lot to do and it would probably take him months. He turned from the balcony and smoothed his white shirt. After walking a few steps into his room, he looked around and then started packing.

 

            Denerim, it had been mostly repaired since the Blight struck the capital. Of course, the palace, Fort Drakon and any place that had wealth or belonged to someone that had money, were the first places to be rebuilt. Then the streets and the marketplace were rebuilt. The alienage and any slums and back alleys were still in disrepair, but the elves were hard at work repairing their home.

            Aren now wore the full regalia and armor of the Grey Wardens. He had a shirt and pants on and on top of that, chainmail and then a breastplate with the two-headed griffon emblazoned on it, the heraldry of the Wardens.

            Cooked meats, freshly baked bread, perfumes, horses and druffalo dung, all the smells wafted into Aren’s nose. He couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. Many people, mostly humans, bustled about the marketplace. The hawker’s shouts pierced the drone of voices. Aren still felt a little bit uneasy whenever he was in an area with large crowds. He had become accustomed to it and no longer skirted the edges of crowds, but he still didn’t like them.

            “Warden-Commander,” a voice called.

            Aren looked about from atop his short horse. He found the source of the voice not far off, near the corner of a store. It was a well-dressed man waving his hand in the air. Aren steered his steed over to the man while Barkspawn followed to the side.

            “Warden-Commander, I am Nathan. I will be your ambassador while you stay in Denerim,” greeted Nathan with a bow.

            “Pleasure to meet you, Nathan. You may call me Aren. There’s no need for titles,” said Aren with a dismissal of his hand.

            “Of course, ser. Queen Anora has provided you with a room at The Gnawed Noble Tavern. They even have a stall for your horse. And your mabari may stay in your room with you.”

            “Thank you. Extend my gratitude for the hospitality as well,” thanked Aren with a smile.

            “I will, ser.”

            “Also, I am here to recruit for the Wardens. Would you have any recommendations of where to start?” Aren inquired bunching his brow.     

“Yes. We have some accomplished veterans at Fort Drakon along with a number of soldiers.”

            “Thank you. I will start there. Also, many wardens come from other places as well, less fortunate places.”

            “You could visit the prison?” suggested Nathan with a confused look.

            “I will visit there as well.”

            “Alright then,” said Nathan. “I shall lead you to the tavern and when you’re ready, we shall head to the fort.”

 

            Rings of swords hitting shields and the grunts of men in battle rang throughout the Fort. It smelled musty and of stale sweat and ale. Nathan had introduced Aren at the front gate of the Fort and they called for a sergeant to lead them throughout. The general had already picked a dozen men and women who he said would be great to recruit for the wardens. Aren had different plans, however. He had learned that some of the best wardens came from the most unlikely places. Duncan, the Warden-Commander before him, had been a pickpocket. He only wanted a few from here.

            The sergeant led Nathan and Aren to a railing that oversaw a large room with dozens of soldiers. They were grouped into three different units. Each one had a man that looked to be training them.

            “The three men that are leading these drills,” explained the sergeant, “are distinguished knights from the Blight.” He gestured towards the men down in the training area.

            “So, they already have experience fighting darkspawn?” Aren asked while watching the men.

            “Indeed,” replied the sergeant. “They have proven themselves very capable. They fought against Loghain’s men as well.”

            “Veterans of the Blight and Civil War and now training soldiers. They must be good,” Aren noted. He brought his hand up and rested it on his chin.

            “The general would not have asked them to run drills if they weren’t,” the sergeant replied. “He only accepts the best, especially after the Blight and the Battle of Denerim.”

            Aren looked up at the sergeant. “May I meet them?” he requested.

            “Of course, once they are done with the drills,” the sergeant answered. “They should be done soon.” The sergeant waved to a bench nearby, “shall we sit?”

            Aren, Nathan and the sergeant sat on the bench and watched the three knights conduct the drills with the soldiers. Barkspawn was content laying on the ground next to the bench. Each knight had a favored weapon. One liked the standard sword and shield and had brown hair in a ponytail. His armor was of the Ferelden soldier make with lots of curves and a wolf pelt on his shoulders. Another wielded a larger sword with two hands and had red shaggy hair with black armor plate over chainmail. The last preferred a short glaive. He had light brown hair with bangs that pointed up. Aren gazed at the last one. He admired the knight’s looks and the way he fought. Aren’s eyes traveled over the man’s armor. Hardened leather over chainmail. It fit well over his toned body. Each one knew their weapon well and were teaching the soldiers how to use those weapons. The knights finished the drills and performed maintenance on the weapons. Finally, they made their way up to the balcony. The sergeant, Aren, and Nathan stood up to greet the knights, as did Barkspawn.

            “Greetings,” the sergeant saluted the knights, “This is Aren Brosca, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and Nathan, the ambassador to the Warden for his stay in Denerim.” The sergeant gestured to each person to introduce them.  “Aren, this is Derek, Aland, and Landon.” Derek was the name of the sword and shield knight, Aland with the large sword and Landon had the short glaive.

            “Stone-met, knights of Ferelden,” Aren clapped a fist to his heart and bowed slightly. His gaze lingered on Landon. When Aren realized he was staring, he quickly looked back at the other knights.

            “The Hero of Ferelden,” Derek greeted, “it is an honor to meet you.” He saluted Aren.

            “Please, I’m not much of a hero,” Aren admitted with a dismissal of his hand.

            “You slew the Archdemon and saved Ferelden, possibly all of Thedas,” Aland threw up his hands and exclaimed. “Of course, you’re a hero.”

            “Well, if you say so,” Aren relented. He rolled his eyes.

            “To what do we owe the pleasure of meeting the Hero?” asked Landon.

            “Right,” Aren remembered. “I’m here to recruit more Wardens. Sadly, it is only me to defend all of Ferelden from darkspawn.”

            “And you want to recruit us?” asked Derek. He waved his hand at himself and the other two knights.

            “Yes. The sergeant here,” Aren gestured to the sergeant, “has praised you for your service during the Blight. Distinguished knights with experience fighting darkspawn would be a welcome addition to the wardens,” he explained.

            “Will we still be able to visit our families?” asked Derek.

            “Yes, you can. Most of the time we will be venturing into the Deep Roads, but when we’re not, you will be able to visit them. They could also come and stay at the Keep,” Aren answered.

            “Do you have ale? Can we party?” Aland inquired.

            “Yes…” Aren answered. His brow furrowed.

            “I would like to join if you’ll have me,” said Landon.

            “Of course,” Aren replied, “what about you two?” he asked.

            “I accept as well,” said Derek.

            “Well, if those two are then so will I,” said Aland.

            “This isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Aren chided. He shook his hand and gestured to punctuate what he said. “This is serious. About half die just from the Joining. After that, your life is filled with nightmares, literally. And then there is the constant fighting of darkspawn and the horrors the darkspawn create.”

            “I understand the danger and horror,” Landon insisted and he put a hand on his chest. “I still want to join.”

            “As do I,” Derek agreed with a look of conviction.

            “I have nothing better to do with my life,” Aland shrugged, “not like my mother would care. So, yes, I still want to join,” he said.

            “Good, then you are now Grey Warden recruits,” said Aren. “I still need more, so we will be traveling Ferelden.”

            “Understood,” said Derek.

            “Ser, we have plenty of soldiers here for you to recruit,” interjected the sergeant as he held out a hand.

            “With all due respect, ser, no,” Aren shook his head, “some of the best wardens have come from more… colorful backgrounds and pasts. That being said,” Aren turned to Nathan, “I would like to now visit the Denerim prison.”

            “Yes, ser,” said Nathan with a bow of his head.

            Aren, Nathan and the knights took their leave from Fort Drakon and headed to the Denerim prison. Barkspawn stayed next to Aren’s side.

 

            The stench of blood, sweat, urine, and feces invaded Aren’s nose. He recoiled and put a hand over his face. He would much rather smell leather gloves that had been in the dirt than this. The prison was mostly quiet except for the sound of chains rattling every now and then, and people’s murmurs and soft sobs. Only a few torches kept the darkness at bay. Row upon row of prison cells lay on either side of the hall. The prison guard escorted them through. Aren looked into each cell as they passed by. They were occupied with mostly men, ragged and unkempt. He stopped at one cell. There were two people in this cell chained on either side. They were elves, a man, and a woman. They both wore clothes that looked to be in decent condition at one point but now they were dirty. Aren guessed they had been in there a day or two.

            “What’s the story with these two?” Aren asked waving a hand at them.

            “Ah, yes,” began the guard, “these two were in their father’s business helping out. Remarkable for an elf to have such a successful business. One of his competitors hated that and killed their father. According to the guards who arrested them, the woman killed the man who killed her father. Of course, it’s still murder.”

            “They will be put to death?” Aren assumed.

            “Yes,” the guard confirmed.

            “I would like to speak with them,” said Aren.

            The guard nodded. Aren approached the cell door and looked through the bars at the prisoners and introduced himself.

            “The Hero of Ferelden? What are you doing here? Why stop and talk to us?” asked the female elf. “What are you doing in a prison?”

            “I’m looking for people to recruit for the Wardens and you caught my attention. Not every warden is a soldier or a knight. Some of us, come from the lowest of the low.”

            “That’s right, you’re casteless,” remembered the female.

            “Was casteless,” Aren corrected. He then caught himself. He was now a Paragon but hated being a Paragon, but he also hated when he was casteless.

            “I’m sorry,” the female said as she got up and walked over to the bars. She waved at the elven man to come with her. “I’m Trits and this is my brother, Krin.”

            “You may call me Aren,” he said. “Tell me your story.”

            Trits scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m an elf living in a human city. My father was a woodcarver and damn good at it. Some shem decided he didn’t like that and murdered my father. So, I got revenge.”

            “I could use that fire in the wardens, what do you say to joining?” Aren offered.

            “The Wardens? Well, I guess that means I won’t die here,” Trits contemplated. She folded her arms.

            “Let me assure you, you could die just from the Joining. If you don’t you will be plagued by nightmares both in sleep and when you face the darkspawn.”

            “Please,” Trits replied with a wave of her hand, “I’ve seen what they look like, they don’t scare me. I can just imagine that they are every shem that ever called me knife-ear and stab them until they’re dead.”

            “Well, like I said, I need someone with that fire.” Aren looked at Krin. “What about you?”

            “If you recruit me, I will serve. I will fight the darkspawn, ser.” Krin’s voice was weak and he stared at the ground.

            Aren was worried about Krin. He hoped he would find his strength when facing the darkspawn, otherwise, he would die.

            “It’s settled then. You two are now Grey Warden recruits.” Aren turned to the guard. “Get these two out.”

            “Yes, ser,” said the guard. He went over to the door and took out a ring of keys. Finding the right one, he unlocked the cell door. It groaned and squeaked. He proceeded to unlock the chains from the elves.

            “Those two? Really?” asked an agitated Derek. He scowled at Aren and the elves.

            “Need I remind you where I came from?” Aren replied with an edge to his voice. He pointed to his brand under his right eye. “I was casteless. We are treated worse than elves. We are seen as a poison, a disease that pollutes the Stone. Many dwarves want to see us dead. Now, I am a Paragon and Warden-Commander. If you don’t like this, leave.”

            Derek furrowed his brow and looked away. “No, ser.”

            “Good. If I hear anything else from you like this, you’re out of the Wardens,” Aren threatened.

            Nathan, Aland, and Landon looked in different directions and shifted their weight. Aren noticed how tense he had gotten and relaxed. Barkspawn looked up at Aren and he patted the mabari’s head. Derek could be a problem or he could get to know Trits and Krin and realize that elves were a lot like humans. They weren’t less than, and neither was he. Never again.

            Trits and Krin walked up to the group. Aren thanked the guard and hurried out.

            “We’re headed to the Gnawed Noble Tavern,” said Aren. “We will stay there for a day or two while we gather everything we need to travel around Ferelden. Nathan, could you get Trits and Krin some change of clothes?”

            “Yes, ser. I could also see to gathering supplies for your travels,” Nathan replied.

            “Thank you. Now, let’s be off.”

 

            Aren and the recruits walked into the tavern only to find it a bit quieter than a tavern should be. The Wardens scanned the room. Everybody was keeping to mostly one side and they sometimes stared in one direction. Aren followed their stares and saw a qunari sitting alone in a corner. Of course, that would make everyone uneasy. The qunari was wearing shiny Silverite plate armor that covered him from neck to toe. It was well made and looked to be inspired by qunari design with sharp edges and geometric patterns. Aren shook his head and walked over to the bar. The recruits were still staring at the horned giant when they realized Aren had left and followed him.

            “Excuse me, ser. Do you happen to know anything about the qunari?” Aren asked the bartender.

            “I do,” answered the bartender. “He is a mercenary who has traveled the lands.”

            “Thank you,” said Aren. He then went over to the qunari and stood next to the table. “I’m Aren Brosca, Warden-Commander of Ferelden. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Aren put a fist to his heart and bowed slightly.

            “Greetings, Warden-Commander. You may call me Koss,” said the qunari. “You are the Hero of Ferelden I’ve heard so much about.”

            “The tales exaggerate, I’m sure,” said Aren and rolled his eyes. “The reality is much darker.”

            Koss smirked. “Of that, I’ve no doubt. Tell me—” He was cut off by Barkspawn nuzzling his lap. The mabari looked up at Koss, panted and wagged his tail. Koss chuckled and petted Barkspawn. “What brings you to my table? Most of the people here cower away from me.”

            “With good reason,” Derek muttered under his breath.

            Aren elbowed Derek. Unfortunately for him, Aren’s height meant the elbow went into Derek’s manhood. He doubled over.

            “I find myself needing more wardens,” said Aren. He caught himself and added, “More than these recruits. Not that they aren’t good. Although they haven’t gone through the Joining. Now I’m rambling. Would you like to join Koss?”

            Koss chuckled. “I didn’t know that the Wardens took in qunari.”

            “We take in anyone willing to join,” Aren informed. “Being a Warden isn’t easy. The Joining itself is gruesome and what follows after is just as terrifying.”

            “I rebelled against the Qun,” said Koss with a stern face. “I fought my way out and then had to deal with prejudice throughout my travels. I’ve fought giants and demons. I think I can handle darkspawn and a few nightmares.”

            “Then I welcome you to the Grey Wardens, Koss.”

            “Thank you.”

            “We have an ambassador who is securing mounts and supplies for our journey around Ferelden to recruit more to the Wardens. If I may ask, why are your horns short?” Aren pointed to Koss’s horns.

            “I filed them back to be level with my head. It’s practical and they don’t get in the way,” Koss replied as he ran a hand along his horns.

            “And your hair being cut so short?”

            “I like how it looks.”

            “This is so cool!” Trits squealed. She shook her fists and jumped a little. “We get to have one of the big guys with us. Could I ride around on your shoulders?”

            “We’ll see,” Koss chuckled.

            Koss finished his drink and retired to his room. Aren went back to the bartender to order a few more rooms for his growing number of recruits. He gave each one a key to a room and they retired for the night.  

 

            The Wardens rode on their horses at a walking speed. The Imperial Highway loomed over the countryside, its weathered and tarnished white stone arches reached high overhead, but some of them were broken. The kings and queens over time had neglected the arches and instead devoted resources to maintain the actual road. On the one side lay the farms of the Bannorn and on the other side was wilderness. There were other people traveling on the highway, some had carts and others had horses. At regular intervals were guards stationed to protect travelers.

            Aren led the way on his short horse. Barkspawn trotted along beside him. The knights, along with the twins and Koss, were behind him. Trits and Krin shared a horse while Koss rode on a large draft horse. They had gotten the supplies they needed to last them at least until Lothering. Any supplies they used up could be replenished there. Trits and Krin had also gotten a few changes of clothes along with a pair of daggers that Trits grabbed from her house and Krin found a simple axe and a wooden shield. They would need them to fight darkspawn.

            Aren noticed how quiet everyone was once they got some distance from Denerim. Eventually, it was unbearable for him. “So…” he started, trying to find something to talk about. “What do you guys like to do for fun?”

            No one answered.

            “Wow, this is awkward,” Aren stated the obvious.

            Still, no one answered.

            “Fine, I will start with myself. I come from Dust Town in Orzammar. As you all know. It’s pretty similar to the alienages that the elves live in. It’s a part of the city that no one cares about. Very few dwarves try to maintain it and they’re all casteless. Nothing ever helps.”

            “Really?” Trits chirped in. “You guys don’t take care of your home?”

            “No, we don’t,” Aren admitted. “I think it’s because everyone is looking for a way out. Some will try for the surface, some women become noble hunters, and others join the carta.”

            “Noble hunters?” asked Landon as he furrowed his brow.

            “They’re women who try to bed a noble man,” Aren explained as he punctuated with his hand. “See, for us, a child joins the caste of the parent of the same gender. If the noble hunter has a boy, she may join the house of the father.”

            “Do men not pursue this?” Koss inquired. “Couldn’t they hunt for a female and if they’re child is a woman, he could join?”

            “Huh, I guess I never thought of that,” Aren noticed. “I don’t think I’ve seen any male noble hunters, though. It’s typically something only women do. My sister was one.”

            “Was?” asked Derek.

            “Yes, she bedded the prince,” Aren began. “She gave him a son, and with my help, Bhelen, the prince, took the throne and became the king. My nephew could become king after Bhelen.”

            “Wait, hold up,” said Trits as she held up her hand, “you’re royalty?”

            “It doesn’t work like that,” Derek scoffed.

            Trits glared at Derek.                     

            “Not really. I’m not royal blood and some other nonsense,” Aren explained. “But I do get to enjoy some privileges because of my close ties. What I enjoy more, is an entire warrior house because I am now a Paragon. House Brosca, some of the finest warriors. Most of them were people I liked in the carta who stuck to jobs that were more, let’s say tasteful. They all thanked me, a lot, and happily joined. Some traditionalists call us the Brand House. We wear them with pride now.”

            “I wish we had someone who could make all of us elves nobles,” Trits wished.

            “With your position as a Warden, you could help that dream come to reality, Trits,” Aren encouraged.

            Trits smiled at that. Derek rolled his eyes.

            “I’m curious about dwarven culture and society. Also about your beliefs. Could you tell me about them?” Koss asked.

            “I would also like to know about their politics,” added Derek.

            “We are completely ruled by castes. Its everything to us. At the very bottom are the casteless. We are believed to be impure and rejected by the Stone. We can’t return to Her when we die. I don’t believe that. It’s just what they tell everyone to justify something our Ancestors did way back,” said Aren gesturing with his hand.

            “Like how they say elves are less than because we didn’t worship the Maker,” asked Trits.

            “Exactly. Someone always says something to justify their actions. Anyways, above that is the Servant class. That’s right, servants are treated better than casteless,” said Aren.

            “What? Even elves in alienages can become servants,” Trits pointed out.

            “Yep. Then, above that, is the merchant caste, then the miners, smiths, artisans, warriors, and on top, in the Diamond Quarter, the noble caste.”

            “Let me guess, it’s higher up than everything else,” said Trits with a roll of her eyes.

            “Yes, as is to be expected, sadly. Now, we believe in the Stone. We don’t worship Her, but we respect Her. We believe that we came from Her and upon death, we return to Her. Those that return to the Stone, are called Ancestors, and sometimes we ask them for advice. We have a fighting arena called the Proving where the Ancestors show who they agree with in disagreements. Then, when someone does something miraculous, the Assembly votes and deems them a living Ancestor, a Paragon,” Aren explained. “The Assembly is where the deshyrs, a representative of each noble house, votes on different matters. And that’s pretty much dwarves of Orzammar for you.”

            “So, to gain political power, I would need to make friends with nobles and royalty there,” Derek surmised as he rubbed his chin with his thumb and finger.

            “Interesting, you could incorporate this belief with just about any,” said Koss.

            “Sure, now what about the rest of you guys? Trits, Krin, do you guys believe in the Maker or the elven gods?” asked Aren.

            “Our parents never really taught us much about either of them,” explained Trits. “We found out about the Chantry and stuff through humans. I am more interested in the Dalish and their beliefs.”

            “Well, I am hoping that we can find some in our travels. They have skills that would be useful in the Wardens,” said Aren.

            “Really?” said Trits, “that would be so cool.”

            Aren smiled. “Koss, you rejected the Qun?”

            “I did reject the Qun,” said Koss. “After that, I learned a great deal about many different cultures and beliefs. I met with some of the Rivaini Seers and spoke to Chantry priests. I admit, I have not encountered the Dalish in my travels. They do tend to be secretive.”

            “Ah, yes,” said Aren, “Wardens have their secrets too.”

            “How is dwarven ale?” asked Aland. “I heard its really good. You guys make it with Deep Mushrooms instead of wheat. And I heard you guys have other drinks as well?”

            “Well, yes,” explained Aren. “We don’t have wheat, but Deep Mushrooms grow in abundance. We do have other drinks as well, Lava Burst, Dragon Piss. I haven’t drunk much.”

            “Do you not like to drink?” asked Aland almost accusingly.

            “No, I don’t. Not big into it,” replied Aren.

            “I’m the same way,” Landon chirped in with a small smile directed at Aren.

            “What did you have to do in the Carta?” asked Derek, almost like he was asking what sort of dark secrets Aren held.

            “I did my best to stay away from the worst of it,” Aren answered. “I mostly did the lyrium smuggling and shaking people down for money. I got quite good at both. I never had to use my fists and I could just use my words. Then when Beraht, my old boss, asked me to make sure his man won the Proving, that’s when things went bad and Duncan had to use the Right of Conscription.”

            “Really?” prodded Landon.

            “I needed to spike the opposing man’s drink and I did. When I got back to Beraht’s man,” explained Aren, “he was passed out drunk. I took his armor and weapons and fought as him. Eventually I was found out. Beraht used his ties to arrest me and I fought my way out and killed him. Then the city guard caught me and that’s when Duncan came.”

            “Wow,” said Landon, surprised. “I never knew it could be so bad for some people.”

            Trits scoffed. “I got in many fights every time someone called me ‘knife-ear.’”

            “Trits, please don’t,” pleaded Krin, sheepishly.

            She ignored her brother. “I kept getting in trouble with the guard and eventually I had to stay in prison for a few months because I was a ‘repeat offender.’”

            “Well, if you just stopped fighting people,” said Derek.

            “Excuse me, shem?” yelled Trits.

            “Trits,” pleaded Krin.

            “I have to constantly fight to show you shems I am equal to you.  I’m not less than you just because I look different.”

            “She’s right,” Aren interjected.

            Derek scowled and looked away from the group. Trits smiled triumphantly and the rest were uneasy. They continued for some time in silence. Aren let the tension melt away and then it was replaced with the awkward silence once more.

            “Derek, tell me about your past,” Aren inquired. “Where do you come from? Do you have family?”

            “I come from a decent plot of land in the Bannorn. My mother and father are Banns and I have two little sisters,” Derek began. “They are both to be wed to sons of Banns in nearby lands to ours. I married the daughter of a very fine artisan from Highever. It helped strengthen our ties there. She now bears our first child.”

            “I’m happy for you,” Aren said with sincerity. “I love children. They’re all adorable. I won’t have any children myself, however.”

            “No?” Derek prodded.

            “Well, Wardens can’t have children,” Aren explained.

            “We can’t?” Derek asked with alarm.

            “It’s the Joining, it…” Aren was trying to find how to explain it. “I still can’t give too many details, but, it introduces something to your body and it keeps you from conceiving a child.”

            “Then this will be the only child I have,” Derek lamented.

            “The rest of you don’t want children, do you?” asked Aren.

            “If I did, my mother wouldn’t care,” said Aland.

            “No, I never planned on having children and my parents know,” Landon answered.

            “At my age,” Koss chuckled, “no. And certainly not with my life.”

            “I never thought about kids,” said Trits. “I don’t think I ever really did.”

            “I never thought about it either,” Krin chimed in. “I guess it’s a no for me as well.”

            “Good, I didn’t want any of you to have regrets,” Aren replied. “I’m sorry, Derek. I will task what mages we will recruit to find a way for you to have more children.”

            Derek looked back up and was a little surprised. “Thank you,” he said.

            “What about the rest of you guys?” Aren asked. “Tell me about yourselves.”

            “I come from Gwaren,” Landon began. “My parents are weapon and armor smiths. My mother is actually the one that designs the stuff and my father makes it. They employ a few people as well. My older sister is now married to a land owner in Amaranthine and my younger brother is set on becoming a knight.”

            “Just like his older brother?” Aren asked with a smile.

            “Yeah, kind of,” Landon returned the smile. They met each other’s eyes.

            “My dad was a wood worker,” Trits chimed in.

            “Yes, I heard he was good at it too,” Aren replied.

            “He was.” Trits played with a wooden figure from her backpack.

            “Is that carving special?” Koss inquired.

            “It is,” Trits said, still gazing at the carving. It was a of a fox.

            “He said you were always like a fox,” Krin added. Everyone was a bit surprised whenever he spoke. “You were clever, quick, and you always had a fire in you. Mom said she could see it in your eyes.”

            Trits began to tear up a little bit. Krin, already holding onto her while riding on the horse, hugged a little tighter.

            “What happened to your mother?” Aren asked.

            “She died during the Blight to darkspawn,” Krin explained, his voice quiet. He was almost hiding behind Trits.

            “I’m sorry you lost both of them to monsters,” said Aren.

            “Thank you,” Trits said through tears. She wiped them away and stuffed the carving back in her backpack. “At least I get to kill darkspawn. That should make me feel better.”

            “It makes me feel better sometimes,” Aren related. “Aland, what about you? What’s your story?”

            “I come from some place in the Bannorn,” he began. “My father died in the Blight and now my mother inherited the wealth. My brother is a sergeant in the army and gets all the attention.”

            “His older brother overshadows him,” Landon explained. “His mom seems to only care about his brother.”

            “Thanks for that,” Aland said sarcastically.

            “Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Aren. “I can see why you decided to join.”

            “We’re also his only real friends,” Derek added.

            “Thanks. Again,” said Aland.

            “I understand even more now,” said Aren.

            They continued on for the day. They stopped twice to eat. Each time they took their horses down a ramp and onto the ground. They set up an area to eat and when they were done, they got back on their horses and continued on the Imperial Highway. Eventually, the sun began to set. Unfortunately, there were no inns or anywhere to stay for a few miles. Aren kept an eye out for a suitable area to camp. He found a ramp down and decided that the corner of the highway and the ramp was a suitable campsite. On the other side was a forest.

            They began setting up their tents. Koss and Landon went out to chop some firewood. Trits and Krin shared a larger tent while the rest had ones just large enough to sleep in. They set up their bedrolls inside and began creating a firepit. Once Koss and Landon came back with some wood, they started a fire.

            “All right,” said Aren. “Who wants to take first watch?”

            Everybody looked at him funny.

            “All right, I will,” Aren answered himself. “Landon will after that and then Aland, Koss and finally Derek. I won’t make Trits and Krin do watch their first time camping.”

            “Um, Aren,” said Landon, “we don’t really need a watch. The only real danger are bandits but there haven’t been many since the Blight. There are also guards patrolling the highway, even at night.”

            Aren realized that it wasn’t the Blight. While Wardens ventured into the Deep Roads during those times of peace, this was the surface. After all the countless nights during the Blight, he had become accustomed to there always being a chance of attack during the night.

            “Right,” he said. “Well, we should probably all head to bed then.”

            “If you want,” said Koss, “I could stay up a little later to make sure we really are safe.”

            “Thank you,” said Aren.

            Not long after, they began retiring to their tents. Koss did stay up later than the rest. Aren lay awake in his tent absently stroking Barkspawn’s back as the dog slept. He kept reaching out with his mind to sense if they were any darkspawn around. There never was. That eased his mind a bit. Eventually, he finally succumbed to sleep.

 

            Aren was the first one to wake up. He was used to nights of sparse sleep while camping. Slowly, everyone else woke up. Trits was the last one. They took their time eating breakfast and rolling up their bed rolls and tents. It was only an hour past sunrise when they woke up. Once they were ready, they set up their horses and started on the highway again.

            “Krin, do you believe in the Maker or the Elven Gods?” Koss asked. They had been traveling for a few hours. Most were content with the silence for a while.

            Krin looked surprised to have someone talking directly at him. He looked over at Koss and replied, “the Maker, ser.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘ser’,” Koss said with a smile.

            “Sorry, s—" Krin stopped himself saying “ser” again.

            “Good,” said Derek. “The elven gods don’t exist, only the Maker does.”

            “Hold on now,” Trits interjected. “I don’t necessarily believe in either but that is a fucking ignorant thing to say.”

            “Excuse me?” Derek retorted.

            “You are so fucking arrogant. You’re not right, you don’t know shit, just like the rest of us. Really you just hate elves,” Trits snapped.

            “I don’t hate elves,” Derek snapped back. “You have turned away from the Maker.”

            “Fuck your Maker,” Trits yelled. “You murdered us in His name.”

            “Enough,” Aren turned back and halted the fight. “Trits, I understand where you’re coming from, but arguing like this won’t help anything. Derek, stop trying to justify your hate with the Maker. He loves all no matter what.”

            Trits and Derek both scowled in opposite directions. Trits let her horse slow down until she was behind the group while Derek went to the front. Aland and Landon rolled their eyes while Koss kept a peaceful demeanor during the bout. Aren had a deep respect for Koss and his sage ways.

            Aland took out a flask filled with ale. Aren could smell it when Aland opened it. He took a swig. Aland offered it to Derek, to which he said no. The rest declined as well when offered, except for Trits. She met him half way in the group and just took a long swig of the ale. She looked satisfied. They shared the drink for the rest of their time traveling.

            They found a nice place to stop to eat. It was next to a little pond with a few trees nearby. They sat around in a circle and tied their horses to one of the trees. They ate dried meats and fruits along with some stale bread. Barkspawn ate some druffalo jerky that Aren fed him. Once the mabari was done, he trotted over to Koss. He petted Barkspawn’s fur and scratched behind his ears. Barkspawn panted and wagged his stub of a tail. Krin looked apprehensive at the dog. When Barkspawn made his way over to the twins, Trits played with him. Krin scooted behind Koss, hiding behind his large body. Koss merely smiled.

            “I hope you aren’t as childish as your sister,” Derek said to Krin.

            “No, ser,” Krin said with a bow of his head.

            “Good,” said Derek, satisfied. He reached over to grab the shirt he wore the day before. “Now clean this for me in the pond over there.”

            “Yes, ser,” Krin complied. He grabbed Derek’s shirt and went over to the pond. Not many of the group heard what they were talking about. Trits looked from Derek to Krin and figured out what was happening. She waited until Krin got back and was about to say something.

            “Krin,” said Koss, “you will need to know how to fight if you hope to be a Warden. Come, I will train you.”

            “Yes, ser,” Krin remembered he was talking to Koss and added, “sorry.”

            “There’s no need to be sorry,” Koss said with a smile. They walked away from the group a little ways and Koss began teaching Krin the basics of fighting. Trits visibly calmed down. She figured it was good for Krin to learn how to fight. Maybe it would toughen him up and he wouldn’t be such a coward. Aren was glad that another fight was averted. If Derek didn’t fix his attitude, there would be a lot of fighting in the group.

            “Aland, you still have that flask?” Trits asked.

            “Yeah,” Aland replied. He dug around in his pack and found it. He tossed it over to her and she caught it with ease. She undid the stopper and downed what was left of the ale. She tossed it back to Aland. He caught it and looked at it as if he had lost a lover.

            Once they were finished eating and Koss and Krin had finished their first lesson, they gathered the horses, saddled up, and were on their way again. Derek and Aland stayed to one side of the group talking. Trits and Krin rode next to Koss and they kept asking him about the Qun and his adventures. He enjoyed their curiosity and enthusiasm. Landon rode next to Aren.

            “You never mentioned a father when you were telling us about your past,” Landon noted.

            Aren raised his eyebrows, looked over at Landon and then said “Oh, right. That’s because he left for the surface not long after my mother was pregnant with me.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Landon offered condolences.

            “It’s ok,” Aren assured. “He offered to take my mother and sister with, but my mother declined. She turned into a drunkard and it was really just me and my sister.”

            “Wow, you have had a very different life than me,” said Landon. He realized how that could’ve sounded and quickly added, “not that I’m judging or anything.”

            Aren smiled, waved his hand and said, “don’t worry. I know I have had a different life than most.”

            Landon looked relieved. “Well, it’s made you who you are today, and I like who you turned out to be.” Landon smiled.

            Aren smiled back. “Oh? You like who I turned out to be?”

            Landon looked away and blushed. “Yeah."

            The rest of the second day went by much the same as the first. They found spots to eat and eventually, a place to sleep. This time, Aren knew not to call out watches. He did it in his head. Landon placed his tent closer to Aren’s while Derek and Aland placed there’s next to each other and Koss and the twins were on the other side of Aren. Derek and Trits were as far away from each other as they could be.

 

            “Why did you abandon the Qun, Koss?” asked Derek on the third day of travelling. Aland rolled his eyes, as did Trits.

            Koss kept his calm demeanor and said, “I left because I didn’t agree with some parts of the Qun.”

            “Only some parts?” Derek asked with an edge to his voice.

            “Yes,” Koss began to explain. “I didn’t like their ways of forcing the Qun on to others. I didn’t like how they treated those that left the Qun either. I did like, however, that they try to make sense of things. They try to bring order in a world of chaos. Everyone is given value and a place in society. They worry about society as a whole. If I were to come to one of the Tamassrans with a question, they would be patient and listen and try to answer as best as they can. These are all things I like about the Qun.”

            Derek scowled off into the distance. “Well, you were right to leave the Qun.”

            “Was I?” Koss asked.

            “Yes,” said Derek as if it was fact.

            “How so?”

            “The Qun is wrong. You should worship the Maker,” said Derek.

            “If I recall correctly, the Maker didn’t make the Qunari,” Koss rebutted.

            “The Qun is still wrong,” Derek muttered under his breath.

            “You are free to believe so,” said Koss.

            After that, Derek didn’t talk to Koss much. Derek seemed to slowly keep to small talk with most of the group except for Aland and Landon. He tried to make Krin be a servant once more, but Koss intervened yet again. Aren was grateful for Koss. He knew eventually he would have to talk to Derek about his attitude, but Aren hated confrontation. He decided he would do it at South Reach.

            At the end of the third day, they had arrived at their destination. Aren found an inn that could stable their horses. They only had so much money to last them the trip, so Aren doubled people up in rooms. Derek said he would only room with Aland and Landon. Aren knew that putting him in a room with Trits was out of the question. He put Derek and Aland in a room, Koss and the twins in another and Landon was in a room with him. He put himself in a room with Landon because he felt something growing there. Aren pulled Derek aside.

            “Look, I know you’re a traditionalist, but you’re going to be working with people from all different parts of Ferelden. Some with different lives than you and some with different beliefs and yes, more elves and dwarves. You can’t act like you are right and everyone should listen to what you say.”

            Derek looked down at Aren, his face stern but otherwise it had no expression. After a few moments, Derek finally spoke. “Fine. I will try to keep it to a minimum.”

            “Thank you,” said Aren. “You really should see this as an opportunity to learn. Aren’t other cultures and beliefs beautiful? I think so. I love having diversity. If we all had the same things it would get pretty boring really quickly.”

            Derek looked away and still kept that stern look on his face. Aren rolled his eyes, then said goodnight to Derek and to the rest of them. Everyone else then began retiring to their rooms. Aren plopped down on his bed as soon as they got in. Aren moaned as he hadn’t slept in a bed for a few days. Landon chuckled as he set up his pack and supplies in a corner of the room.

            “We should probably have a little something to eat before bed,” said Landon as he took out a few pieces of dried fruit.

            Aren sat up, took off his pack, and then moved over to the table and set his pack down. Landon went to the table and sat down with Aren. They enjoyed each other’s company in silence as they munched on the fruit.

            “Are you really friends with Derek or do you just tolerate him?” Aren asked.

            Landon stopped midchew and looked at Aren. He then resumed chewing, swallowed and said, “I guess I just tolerate him,” it came out more as a question. “I mean, when you get to know him, he’s an alright guy. But yes, his ignorance is a problem.”

            “I talked to him before we came up to the rooms and he seemed to understand he needs to either keep it to himself or change,” Aren stated.

            They met each other’s eyes and Landon said with sincerity, “No matter what happens to him, I am committed to the Wardens.”

            Aren smiled, “Good. I’m glad you want to stay,” he said with warmth. “Alright, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we head into the Brecilian Forest.”

            Aren and Landon finished eating and went to their beds. Landon took off most of his clothes except for light trousers and settled into bed. Aren watched his lean body in the candle light. Once Landon was in bed Aren then undressed as well down to his trousers and settled in as well.


	2. The South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens now journey to South Reach, to Redcliffe and into the Frostbacks.

Tales of Aren Brosca

Recruitment: The South

 

           Leaves and needles littered the forest floor. Sunlight streamed down, filtered through the canopy. Insects, birds, and rodents squeaked and chirped. The smell of rotting leaves mixed with pines and birches permeated the air. Only Barkspawn, Koss, Trits, Krin and Landon followed behind Aren. Derek and Aland decided to stay at the inn in South Reach. Derek didn’t want to come into the Brecelian Forest. He said it was haunted. Aren knew the real reason and deemed it necessary for him to stay behind. Aland wanted to party. Aren let him stay too. He figured having elves, even city elves would help with the Dalish. They liked dwarves better than humans, hopefully that would help with negotiations and get into their camp.

            Aren kept listening and checking each side of the forest path. Barkspawn did as Aren did. He didn’t even know if a Dalish clan was here. He hoped so, otherwise the last few days were a waste. He could tell the others behind him were doing the same, more because they had never been in a forest than anything. For all but probably Koss.

            Aren turned his head to the left suddenly. He thought he had seen something there. The others stopped, listened and looked as well. They scanned the trees and saw nothing. Aren assumed the others did too. Just as Aren started to take a step forward, elves came out from behind trees, arrows nocked, and bows drawn. They wore leathers the style of the Dalish with lines that invoked images of the forest. Aren raised his hands and looked back at the others to make sure they did the same. They did. Barkspawn was growling, so he shushed him. He looked back at the elves.

            “I am Aren Brosca, Warden-Commander of Ferelden.”

            None of the elves made a move.

            “I am here to see if there are any Dalish that would like to become Grey Wardens,” none still made any movements.

            “Not much for talking, are they?” Trits sassed.

            “I was the one who helped Zathrian’s clan.”

            A woman with a long, pale blonde braid flowing down her back moved forward. “You are the one that cured his people of the werewolf curse?” she asked.

            “Yes,” Aren confirmed, “unfortunately it meant Zathrian sacrificing himself to break the curse. Do you know the whole story?”

            “No,” she said, “we hear rumors and such but not the real story. The Keeper would like to hear it. He is performing a ritual, though, at the moment.” She gave a signal to the rest of the elves and they withdrew their arrows. “Andaran atish’an, Warden.”

            “Thank you,” said Aren, “I will admit, even though I spent some time with Dalish I still do not know proper greetings. I apologize.”

            “Don’t worry. You are more kind and respectful of our ways than most people.” She turned to look at Koss. “We have never seen one of the horned giants before.”

            Aren turned to look at the horned giant and he didn’t look annoyed or irritated.

            “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Koss. I am a Tal-Vashoth and have relinquished the Qun.”

            “The pleasure is ours. Garas, I will show you to our clan.” She waved her hand behind her and started off in that direction. Aren followed her and the recruits as well. The Dalish hunters surrounded them.

            After a short walk, the Wardens entered the Dalish encampment. Their aravels formed a circle in a clearing in the forest, their awnings stretched out into the center. On the inside of the circle, campfires and tables were placed around. Children ran, laughing and playing. Smiths, or the Dalish version of smiths, worked ironbark into staves, bows, and arrows. A herd of halla grazed around the aravels, while some of the hunters talked around campfires. The smells of ironbark, leather, campfires, halla, and food all mixed with the smells of the forest. The Dalish turned to look as the Wardens entered their home. The lead hunter walked over to a slightly larger aravel and told the other hunters to go back to their duties. There, she conversed with a Dalish mage. Aren couldn’t make out what they are saying as half of it was in elven and the rest was too quiet. The hunter turned back to the Wardens. “We will take you where the ritual is being held. But please be respectful and only watch.”

            She led them to a small clearing behind the encampment. Six mages were in a circle with another one in the middle. They were all casting magic. Aren could feel it tingling in his arms and back.

            “What are they doing?” Aren asked the woman.

            “They’re calling a spirit,” she replied.

            “What kind of spirit?” he asked.

            “A spirit who knows of our ancient past—"

            “Stop!” A voice from behind Aren shouted. The owner of the voice sprinted past him and he saw it was a woman. Her golden-brown hair, that reached her upper back, flowed behind her as she ran into the circle. She wore a short dress made of halla leather and ironbark pauldrons, vambraces, greaves and chest plate. “You can’t do this. It’s a demon.”

            “Hush,” said the man in the middle. He looked directly at her. “Frosethiya, you have made your objections clear, but I am the Keeper.”

            “What an idiot,” Trits remarked.

            Frosethiya turned to look at the other mages. “Falon, you can’t possibly be okay with this. He is bringing a demon here and it will kill people. It could possess any one of you.”

            Some of the mages stopped casting and looked at one another. One by one, they all stopped. The Keeper faltered a bit and then stopped as well. He looked directly at Frosethiya again, a deep scowl on his face. The other mages began walking behind Frosethiya.

            “Fine, I will punish all of you when I’m done. This spirit knows about the time of Arlathan. We need it.”

            “It’s lying to you, Keeper. You of all people should know that,” said Frosethiya.

            “It’s not, I can feel it.” He took a knife from his belt and slit his hand. Blood magic. He continued casting as waves of magic converged on a point above him. The air vibrated and the ground shook. A low rumbling came from that spot in the air above him. Aren put his hand on the handle of his sword, ready to draw it. A pride demon began to take form in the air and then it became energy. It moved into the Keeper’s body. He stopped casting, his arms dropped to his sides and his head looked down. A faint sound. It steadily grew louder. It was the sound of flesh and bones moving. The Keeper’s skin grew and became pink and sickly looking. Growths appeared along his arms and on his face. He was now an abomination. Aren took out his sword and his recruits followed. Landon took out his glaive, Koss unsheathed his sword and his tower shield. Trits took out her daggers and Krin took out his axe and small shield. Most of the mages and the woman hunter fled to the encampment.

            “Koss, draw its fire,” Aren shouted. “Trits, try to flank it. Landon and Krin, you’re with me in hitting it from the sides and the front. Barkspawn, go for his legs. Frosethiya, can you save him?”

            She turned to look at Aren and he saw her face for the first time. She had the Dirthamen vallaslin tattooed on her face. “I would need to go into the Fade and we don’t have time or power for that.” Tears began to form in her eyes. The recruits were already battling the possessed Keeper. He threw fireballs and lightning at them. Koss’s shield easily blocked them. Landon and Trits took turns striking at him. Barkspawn bit his legs. Krin, however, was cowering behind a nearby tree.

            “Then what are our options?” Aren asked.

            “Kill him,” she said through tears. She twirled her staff that was an ironbark branch, a blade on one end and the branches curling around an orb on the other. The twirling gathered magic and she pointed the orb end at the abomination. A bolt of lightning struck the Keeper and he howled with the pain.

             Aren motioned to let the recruits know to get back. This was Frosethiya’s fight. She waved her left hand from her right to her left and then from her knees up to above her head. Rocks materialized out of the air and formed armor around her.

             She then twirled her staff above her head and planted the bladed end in the ground. The abomination stuck out both of his hands and gouts of flame erupted toward Frosethiya. She quickly took her staff out of the ground, spun it in front of her and formed an ice shield. The gouts of flame hit the ice shield and began melting it.

             Steam rose from her shield, but the flames gave out. Roots sprouted up from the ground and enveloped the Keeper. Frosethiya took her staff and planted it beside her in the ground. She began gathering magic in front of her and then launched out a large icicle. It flew through the air and pierced the abomination’s chest. The pointed end stuck out of its back. The growths receded, and the keeper’s face was more normal, but only partially. Frosethiya ran over to him.

            “I told you not to,” she sobbed. “This is why.”

            “Ir abelas, falon. Dareth shiral.”

            “Dareth shiral, Keeper.”

            His body went slack within the roots. Frosethiya sobbed but was able to wave her hand and the roots retreated into the ground. The Keeper’s body dropped, and the icicle completely melted away, leaving a hole through the Keeper’s chest. Frosethiya extended her hand toward her staff. It lifted from the ground and flew to her hand. She carried the Keeper’s body to the encampment. Aren signaled to the recruits to follow him into the encampment with her.

            “What happened?” the woman hunter asked in shock as she ran up to Frosethiya.

            “He became possessed, so I had to kill him,” Frosethiya sobbed.

            “You what?” shouted a woman mage. She came from behind the woman hunter.

            “I had to. We don’t have the resources to go into the Beyond and free him,” explained Frosethiya.

            “You don’t get to just decide that,” proclaimed the mage as she pointed at Frosethiya. She came up and took the Keeper’s body as if it didn’t belong to Frosethiya. “That’s it. Frosethiya, I’m sorry, but for murdering our Keeper, we must exile you.”

            “What? You can’t do that. I just saved everyone from dying to the abomination,” Frosethiya pleaded and waved a hand at the entire clan.

            “No, you murdered our Keeper. And as his First, I now take his place as Keeper. And I say, you are exiled, Frosethiya.”

            “She did what she had to do. She objected to this plan because she knew it was stupid,” Aren interjected and pointed at Frosethiya. “She then did what had to be done while the rest of you ran away like cowards. Where were you when my recruits were containing the threat? You were cowering here in your little campsite.”

            “You Durgen’len,” the new Keeper growled, her face contorted with anger. “How dare you speak to us like that. We could kill you—”

            “You can certainly try,” interjected Trits.

            “Quiet, flat-ear,” yelled the Keeper, “All of you, get out of here. You too, Frosethiya.”

            “Don’t I at least get to say goodbye to my family?” asked Frosethiya.

            “Fine.” The Keeper stormed off to the larger aravel carrying the old Keeper’s body. Everyone in the Dalish clan went back to their business.

            “Frosethiya, I know this is a difficult time, but when you are done saying your goodbyes, speak to me. I have an offer for you,” said Aren.

            “Alright, I will.” Frosethiya set out to her aravel and family.

            “Simplemindedness,” Koss scoffed. “Frosethiya did what she had to, she hated it, but she did it. You will recruit her?”

            “Yes,” Aren confirmed.

            “It would be good to have a Dalish perspective on things,” Landon remarked.

            The Wardens made their way to where they entered the Dalish camp.

 

            Aren and the other Wardens waited at the camp entrance. Trits was talking to Krin about the battle. Landon was staring at the camp, watching the elves go about their work. Koss was doing the same but more respectfully. He nudged Aren’s shoulder and nodded his head toward the camp. There was a young elven man with short, messy blonde hair with grey eyes and an Andruil vallaslin tattooed on his face. He had ironbark chainmail with hard leather armor over it, same as the Dalish hunters.

            “Andaran atish’an, Wardens,” the elf greeted. “My name is Valan. I would like to join the Wardens.”

            “Really?” Aren asked.

            “Yes, please,” he said.

            “Why? Aren asked.

            “Because… There was an accident and…and I am no longer welcomed here.” Valan wrung his hands. “Well, kind of. It's unbearable living here with them looking at me like that,” explained Valan. He looked to the side.

            “Are you alright?” asked Koss with sincerity.

            “No,” Valan admitted. He hung his head. “Like I said, there was an accident and it was my fault. Someone died.”

            “Oh,” Aren said, now understanding. “I will recruit you then. We already have an elf who isn’t that good at fighting. So, if you don’t know, we can train you too.”

            “Oh, no,” Valan said. He took out two short, elegantly curved swords. “I definitely know how to fight, I’m a hunter, or I was.”

            “Good. Now we just wait for Frosethiya”

            Not long after, Frosethiya appeared from behind a tree. She had a backpack that looked filled with supplies along with a solemn face. She then looked up and saw Valan. “Valan. Are you joining the Wardens?”

            “Yes.”

            Frosethiya turned to Aren and asked, “Did he tell you why he wants to join?”

            “Vaguely, but we accept anyone.”

            Valan looked like he was about to panic. “Frosethiya don’t—”

            “He killed his brother in a hunting accident. Everyone shuns him in the clan, especially his family.”

            “And you?” Aren asked.

            “I never really had a reason to talk to him. I felt bad. But now I think we’re pretty even,” Frosethiya admitted.

            “So, you don’t hate me?” asks Valan.

            “No. I felt sorry for you,” confided Frosethiya.

            “Well, I would also like to recruit you, Frosethiya, into the Wardens, if you will join us,” offered Aren.

            “Me? Well, I guess, maybe. I don’t really have a place to call home anymore,” Frosethiya thought out loud.

            “I didn’t either for a while,” Aren admitted. “I had to leave Orzammar as a Grey Warden recruit or I was to be put to death for impersonating a warrior in the Proving. And also, for polluting the Proving. And for being out of Dust Town. And for being a member of the Carta. I really had no choice. Die or join the Wardens. I lost the only home I had ever known. But, I think I have found one that we could all call home. The Wardens can be family.”

            “Then I accept your offer to join the Wardens,” said Frosethiya.

            “I will give you guys both the same little speech as I gave the rest,” said Aren. “This won’t be easy. The Joining ritual is terrifying and every time you face darkspawn. And you will have literal nightmares.”

            “I still accept,” said Valan with certainty.

            “So, do I,” said Frosethiya.

            “Good. Then let’s return to South Reach. We can stock up there and continue our journey.”

 

            Aren walked along the forest path with the recruits behind him and Barkspawn happily walking next to him. They would get to South Reach by the end of the day. He thought about the rest of the journey. Already he had a decent amount, but nowhere near the amount Orlais or even the Free Marches had. Still, it was better than nothing. He knew he would also find more in Orzammar and the Circle Tower. He was dreading visiting Orzammar again. Home, but also where half the city wanted him dead and the other half praised him. There were still some that were trying to decide if they should hate him or love him.

            Aren snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Barkspawn growling. He felt darkspawn nearby. No, not darkspawn, but something tainted. A mass of fur, claws, and teeth pounced on him. He summoned his berserker fury. Aren raised an arm and teeth bit down on it. Luckily, he was armored. He couldn’t get to his sword like this, he had to rely on his own hands. More snarls and growls came from the sides.

            Suddenly, the beast let go of Aren’s arm. He quickly sprang up and took out his sword. Fire and lighting danced along the edges. The beast was a blighted wolf. Poor sod. It backed to the side and Aren saw why the wolf let go: Barkspawn bit the wolf’s hind leg. Aren and the mabari charged at the wolf from both sides. It tried biting Aren, but he jumped back. Barkspawn bit into the wolf’s neck and Aren used the opening to plunge his sword into the other side. The wolf crumpled to the ground dead.

            He looked back at the others and there were four more blighted wolves lying dead on the ground. “Are any of you guys hurt?” Aren asked. All of the recruits shook their heads. Krin lay on the ground, cowering, again.

            Aren could still sense something blighted. He told the recruits and led them in the direction he sensed it, deeper into the forest. It wasn’t long at all until they came upon some ruins. They weren’t large. A few arches overgrown with vines led into a small building. They went in.

            Much of what once stood in the ruins was rubble on the ground with trees and shrubs growing among it. The walls stood tall with vines snaking across. The roof had a few holes scattered throughout letting sunlight it. There was an opening to below the ruins in the middle. That was where Aren sensed more blighted creatures, they were wolves, but they stood on their hindlegs. Blighted werewolves.

            There were only three, but they charged quickly at the Wardens. Only one went for Aren. He rolled to his left to dodge the werewolf. As it turned around, Aren thrust his sword into it and Barkspawn bit its leg. It howled. Aren yanked his sword out and thrust again. It crumpled to the ground, taking Aren with it. He got up and yanked his sword out again.

            Koss had his shield up and one of the werewolves was on it trying to get its claws past the shield. Valan ran to position himself to be behind it. He stabbed it a few times and the werewolf dropped to the ground.

            Landon had his glaive out, thrusting at the werewolf, keeping it at bay. Trits got behind it and thrust her daggers, stabbing it over and over until it finally died.

            Krin cowered behind Frosethiya who had an ice shield up.

            “What were those?” asked Trits as she panted.

            “The first ones were just blighted wolves,” explained Aren. “These were werewolves.”

            Aren examined the bodies of the werewolves. They were all male and only recently were infected with the taint. He looked over at the stairs going down below ground. It was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing. A terrible and powerful presence lurked down there, he could feel it. It was different from other darkspawn. It was something similar to The Architect or The Mother, powerful. He looked over to Frosethiya. “Can you collapse these ruins and seal this entrance? I think it leads to the Deep Roads.”

            “Yeah, I should be able to,” she answered.

            They all left the ruins, cleaned their weapons and sheathed them. Frosethiya lifted her arms and channeled her magic. The ground began shaking and the walls of the ruin fell. Dust billowed up and when it cleared, where once stood ruins, there was only a pile of rubble. The Wardens continued their walk back to South Reach to resume their journey around Ferelden.

 

            Once the Wardens had arrived at South Reach, they went directly to the inn they were staying at. There were a few people eating and drinking at the tables and waitresses bustling about. Aren found Derek and Aland sitting at a table alone. Once they saw Aren and the others, they waved and made their way over to the table.

            “Derek, Aland,” began Aren, “this is Frosethiya and Valan.” He gestured to each one.

            “I’m Aland,” he said with a raise of his mug.

            “I’m Derek,” he said with a forced smile.

            “I’m Frosethiya, but all of you can call me Sethy,” she said glancing at everyone as she put a hand on her chest.

            “I’m Valan,” he said with a wave.

            “Right, now then, I’m sure some of us could use a drink,” Aren said as he sat down. The others sat as well and Barkspawn laid on the floor. “We actually saw a bit of action that you two missed.”

            “What?” asked Aland, disappointed. “I wanted to fight.”

            “What happened?” asked Derek with a furrowed brow.

            “Well, Sethy, would you be ok sharing the first battle, or do you want to keep that a secret?” Aren asked.

            Sethy glanced at Aren, surprised at the sincere question. “I… I can tell it.” She looked at Derek and Aland, took a deep breath and told the tale of her having to kill her Keeper.

            “I’m sorry you had to do that,” Aland said with sincerity.

            “Serves him right for courting a demon,” Derek chastised.

            “Derek,” Aren scolded.

            “Sorry,” said Derek. He didn’t mean it.

            “Thank you,” said Sethy, “I wasn’t that close with him.”

            “He was your teacher,” Koss chimed in. “And even if you weren’t close, I’m guessing that this is the first time you killed someone.”

            Aren thought that he could’ve put it a bit nicer.

            “Yes…” said Sethy. She looked down at the table.

            “If you need someone to talk to, I am here,” Koss offered.

            “Thank you,” said Sethy.

            “There was another battle,” said Aren. “On our way out of the forest, we encountered blighted wolves and werewolves.”

            “Werewolves?” asked Derek as he sat up straighter in his chair.

            “Yes, I thought I had seen the last of them after the Blight and after in the Blackmarsh. I guess not. They were infected by the taint. We killed them and found an entrance to some caves that likely led to the Deep Roads. I had Sethy collapse it.”

            “So, only a small battle then,” said Aland.

            “Yes, only a small battle,” Aren assured.

            “Well, we have two more recruits. Welcome to the Wardens,” said Aland. “But what is your story, Valan?”

            “Oh,” said a surprised Valan, “I, well,” he took a few moments to look around the table at the other Wardens and finally glanced down. “I killed my brother in a hunting accident and now I am not welcome in my clan.”

            “I’m sorry,” said Aland. “So, you decided to join the Wardens?”

            “Yeah, I saw an opportunity to leave my clan, so I took it.”

            “But why join the Wardens instead of just leaving your clan?” asked Aren.

            “Well, I don’t want to be by myself. Where would I go? An Alienage? No thanks,” said Valan.

            “I understand. I just want you to know that this is a commitment for the rest of your life and not a pretty life,” Aren explained.

            “I know, I still want to join. I can do a lot of good being a Warden,” Valan answered.

            “Good. And you can do a lot of good,” Aren agreed.

            “I’m glad to have more elves around,” Trits chimed in.

            “I’m glad that there are other elves in the Wardens. I’m a little surprised, in fact,” Sethy admitted.

            “There have been quite a few elves,” said Aren. “Don’t forget the hero of the fourth Blight, Garahel.”

            “Yes, he is a hero to us as well,” said Sethy.

            “Well, I know it’s still a little early, but I think we should retire for the night. Some of us have been through a lot,” said Aren as he stood up. “Sethy, Valan, would you guys like to room with someone or have your own rooms?”

            “I would like my own room,” Sethy requested.

            “I would as well,” said Valan.

            “Alright, that means some of us have to double up again,” Aren announced.

            “I will room with you again,” said Landon. “If you’re ok with that.”

            “I am,” said Aren with a smile. He went over to the innkeeper and rented out some rooms. He handed the keys over to each of the Wardens. Aren was with Landon, Trits and Krin were together, Derek and Aland, and Sethy, Koss and Valan each had their own rooms. They finished their drinks and meals, paid for them, and retired for the night.

 

             A light wind blew across the ruined arches of the Imperial Highway. Scattered clouds drifted high above. The Wardens had taken the entire morning to procure any supplies they needed from South Reach. Aren knew they would need a lot for their journey to Redcliffe. It would take at least a week, if not more. He apologized to Sethy and Valan due to their being no halla to ride. They were content riding horses. The cost of the journey was starting to get expensive. When they reached Orzammar, the cost should be considerably less.

            For the first few days of traveling, there was scattered conversations. Sethy and Valan were getting to know the rest of the Wardens. For the most part, Derek didn’t talk. He offered a few poorly disguised racist remarks every now and then. The rest knew how to handle him now. Trits’s anger at Derek had died down some. Now, she just offered a quip remark. Landon was enjoying getting to know them. He had never met Dalish elves before, he had told them. To which he quickly tried to clarify that he meant it in a completely non-racist way. Sethy just laughed and told him it was alright. Trits enjoyed getting know them as well. Most of the Wardens seemed to be getting along just fine.

            Aren’s mind was on other things, however. He wondered what that powerful presence was that he had sensed back in the Brecelian Forest. It wasn’t something like the Architect or the Mother. It was something powerful, but unique like them. Then there was the matter of the blighted werewolves. They were all male. Could the darkspawn be trying to create a broodmother from werewolves? Aren shuddered at the thought. What kind of darkspawn would they create? Something worse than the Children? Aren shook his head. He couldn’t ruminate on questions and going down rabbit holes. He needed more information to make educated guesses. He couldn’t shake the feeling, however, that something was going on with the darkspawn. Once he completed his journey around Ferelden, he would investigate it.

            On the third day of travel, they found a nice spot to camp near a pond and some trees. They tied the horses to a tree and let them graze. Koss saw to each horse and took care of them. It was heartwarming seeing him with the horses. Once all of the tents were up, they set up a fire and sat around.

            “Are you ok, Aren?” Landon asked in a low voice.

            Aren glanced over at him, surprised. “Yes, I am.” He looked down at his pack as he took out some food. “Well, not totally,” he admitted. They would run out of food in a few days.

            “What’s wrong?” Landon asked with concern.

            “We Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. When I looked down in that cave, I sensed something powerful,” said Aren as he stared at the ground in front of him. He petted Barkspawn laying beside him, gnawing on a bone.

            “Do you know what it was?” asked Landon.

            “No, I don’t. That’s what scares me,” Aren admitted.

            “Well, what are you going to do about it?” Landon asked.

            “Nothing right now. We still have a long way to go before we get back to Warden’s Keep. We could cut straight there, but, I would like to recruit some more. We need all the help we can get. We don’t have the numbers like Orlais does.”

            “True,” Landon agreed.

            The rest of them were already devouring their meals. Aren was right, the food wouldn’t last until they got to Redcliffe. He hoped some of them here had experience hunting, other than Valan.

            “Where are we headed after Redcliffe?” Trits asked once she had finished eating.

            Aren swallowed his last bite. “We will be heading up to Orzammar.”

            “I have never visited there,” said Koss.

            “We’ll be going to the city of the Dwarves?” asked Trits with excitement. “That’s so cool!”

            “I imagine it will be all of your guys’ first time,” Aren felt anxiety and stress. “It won’t be cool for me.”

            “What do you mean? Don’t you want to visit home?” Valan asked.

            “Well, it’s complicated,” Aren explained. “My sister is concubine to the king and my nephew could be in line for the throne. And I am Paragon and rule a house. But I was once casteless. To turn a casteless all the way into a Paragon has only happened once before. There are still those that would like to see me dead. They think I corrupt the Paragons and the warriors and blah blah blah.”

            “If I can give a suggestion,” Derek began, “you could find those that oppose you directly, the strongest opposers, and deal with them.”

            Everyone looked at Derek like he said that elves weren’t that bad.

            “That’s not a bad idea,” Aren thought it over. “But this visit is simply to find recruits.”

            “I doubt you’re opposers will care about that. I doubt not very many people will care,” said Derek. “Their Paragon is returning. Many will want to have a parade for your return. Many will also see it as an opportunity for assassination.”

            “Fuck,” said Aren. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter what I want. Fuck. I never wanted this. Looks like I will have to deal with that too.”

            “Hey,” said Landon as he put a hand on Aren’s shoulder, “you’re not alone in this. You’re our commander and we will be with you.”

            “He’s right, we are with you,” Trits agreed. “We won’t let anyone kill you.”

            Aren looked at the other Wardens and they all nodded in agreement. “Thanks, you guys. I mean it. Then once we get to Orzammar, we will have two objectives: recruit Wardens and deal with my opposition, one way or another.”

            The all smiled and nodded in agreement.

            “Good, now then, I’m beat from all of this traveling and worrying, I’m going to get some sleep,” said Aren.

            They all followed their commander’s lead and headed into their tents and retired for the night.

 

            The sky was a dull gray. No wind blew across the land. The other Wardens were as silent as the land they were now traveling across. This was where Lothering once was. They looked out to the south and saw only dead land. The Blight had poisoned this area and it would never recover. The ground itself was dead. A dull gray to reflect the sky. There was no life at all. Not even insects crawled along the ground or buzzed around. Not an animal or plant in sight. The scene was breathtaking for all of the wrong reasons. This was a reminder of why they fought the darkspawn. They existed to defend against this. Death.

            Only a few half-built buildings broke the otherwise monotonous landscape. Those who once lived here tried to rebuild, but ultimately failed. The land was too blighted for anything to live here. The people left their unbuilt homes to stand as monuments to their attempts.

            Aren wanted to leave this place as soon as they could. He pressed his heels into his horse a bit and the it obeyed the command, speeding up. The others followed suit. He hated seeing this. An entire village gone and could no longer be rebuilt. How many lives were lost after he had left? He knew he couldn’t have saved them. It was only him, Barkspawn, Alistair, and Morrigan. Even if the entire village were given weapons and trained they couldn’t hold them off. He had told as many villagers as he could to leave. He hoped that urged others to run. Aren couldn’t bear it any longer and gazed to the north. A few miles out and life cropped back up. It started as weeds and fungi, but at least it was something.

           

            By the end of the day, they had reached the end of the blighted lands and found an area to camp. This was the northern end of the Korcari Wilds. The Wardens set up camp as usual with their horses tied to a tree and building a fire in the middle of the tents. The Imperial Highway was to their backs and the Wilds stretched out before them. Sethy and Valan suggested camping on the south side of the Highway. Valan knew forests and would be able to tell if anything was a threat. This far north and close to civilization, nothing dangerous would venture this far, he assured everyone.

            Unfortunately, they had run out of food.

            “Valan, do you think you could hunt for food?” Aren asked.

            “I think I could, but, I would need some help,” he said.

            “I’ll go with,” Sethy offered.

            “Alright, the rest of us will stay here and wait,” said Aren.

            Valan and Sethy went off into the Wilds. Aren hoped they could find something. They were only a few days journey away from Redcliffe and they would stock up there. Maybe they could find a trader or a farmer on the way. His stomach rumbled. He had been rationing since yesterday and he still ran out. The others were sitting or pacing. He could tell that they were hungry too. Krin looked worried. Probably due to no food and being out in the middle of nowhere, Aren thought. He was not used to camping and traveling. When they were in South Reach, Krin was just fine. Whenever they were camping, though, he was always anxious. Trits did what she could to calm him down. Koss had been pacing at the edge of camp and noticed Krin. He walked over and sat next to him. Koss had a calming effect on Krin.

            Almost an hour had passed when they heard rustling in the trees. Aren stood up and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. He did it instinctively. Valan and Sethy came rushing out. Once they reached the camp site, they turned around.

            “Big bear coming,” Valan said through breaths.

            Aren looked back at the woods and a great bear came through the trees and roared once it reached the edge of camp. Aren drew his sword and Barkspawn started growling. The other Wardens were about to take out their weapons. Before he could take a step and the others could finish getting their weapons, an arrow whistled dangerously close to Aren’s ear. He froze, everyone did. A woman came through the tree line. Her bow was drawn and ready.

            “Don’t move,” she commanded.

            “We don’t mean any harm,” said Aren, calmly.

            “We don’t?” Valan whispered.

            “Why were you chasing these two?” Aren asked.

            “They invaded my territory,” she replied.

            “Apologize,” Aren whispered to Valan.

            “We’re very sorry,” said Sethy. “We didn’t realize that was your territory.”

            “What are you people doing here?” the woman asked. “No one ventures into the Wilds.”

            “We were hunting for food,” Sethy answered. “We ran out just today and figured there would be food in the Wilds.”

            “There is, but there is also danger,” said the woman.

            “Please, we don’t mean any harm,” said Aren. “We just need some food and by morning we’ll be on our way.”

            The woman gazed at Aren, studying him. “You must be a Grey Warden.”

            “I am. My name is Aren Brosca and these are my recruits,” he replied.

            The woman started relaxing and lowering her bow, but only by a few inches.

            “It looks like you know your way around the Wilds,” Aren pointed out. “Could you, perhaps, help us with hunting?”

            “I will lend you some of my own food,” she offered. “This late, you would be lucky to find a wolf. Especially this far north.”

            “Thank you so much,” said Aren. He sheathed his sword. “That is greatly appreciated.”

            “You’re welcome,” she lowered her bow all the way and returned the arrow into a quiver. “My name is Kalar and this is my bear, Chaska.” The bear made a low grunt.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kalar,” said Aren.

            “Civility. That’s rare down here,” Kalar remarked. “Wait here, I will bring food.”

            She gave a signal to her bear and they disappeared back through the trees. Everyone relaxed somewhat and breathed a sigh of relief. Valan and Sethy sat down next to the fire. Aren stayed standing and paced a bit as he waited. Several minutes went buy and his anxiety started to make him doubt if she would return at all. Perhaps she told them to wait at their camp, so they wouldn’t bother her.

            She reemerged from the trees with her bear in tow. She was carrying a sack. Aren could smell the food. Once she got near the fire, she set down the bag and opened it. It held jerky from various kinds of animals. Just what they needed. She handed meat out to everyone. Barkspawn begged her for more than his fair share. She obliged him. The bag was only partially empty. She must have enough meet for a quite a few days, Aren thought. Although, there was the bear. Oddly enough, she stayed while they ate.

            “Thank you for this,” said Aren.

            “You’re recruiting for the Wardens?” she asked.

            “I am,” he answered after he swallowed. “That’s why we’re traveling. We’re going all around Ferelden recruiting any who will join us.”

            “What does being a Warden entail?” she asked.

            “It’s a hard life,” Aren began. He explained that there was a ritual to join, and about the nightmares and having to fight darkspawn.

            “That doesn’t sound so bad compared to my current life,” she said.

            “Really?” asked Aren. “If you don’t mind a stranger asking, how bad is your current life?”

            “Kind of bad. I was once a part of a Chasind tribe not far from here. I went out hunting one day and, on my way back I was stopped short. The darkspawn were advancing. It wasn’t until after the Blight that I could finally make it back. They were all dead.”

            “I’m so sorry,” Aren said. “That must be hard.”

            “Since then, I met Chaska and it’s just been him and I,” she said.

            Aren looked around at the others. They all looked sympathetic to her plight, even Derek. He looked back at Kalar. “Would you like to join the Wardens?”

            She looked up at him, surprised. “You would take in a Chasind?”

            “Yes. We take in anyone willing to join,” said Aren.

            She looked back down at the ground, thinking. She reached out a hand and petted Chaska. After a minute, she met Aren’s gaze and said, “I will join. I have nowhere else to go.”

            “We would be honored to have you,” said Aren.

            “Having nowhere else to go seems to be a common theme here,” Aland noticed.

            “Are you going to make drinking a common theme?” Trits jibed.

            “Hey, do you see me drinking now?” Aland retorted.

            “That’s only because you drank all of your ale,” Landon joined in.

            “I wish my flask was enchanted to hold a lot more,” Aland said, holding up his flask.

            They all laughed and finished their meal. They asked Kalar a few things about herself but figured that she had already shared enough. Instead, they let her ask the questions and they got to know each other. In the firelight and being this close, Aren finally saw what she looked like. Her hair was dark brown, in dreads going down her back. Her sides were completely shaven. She had something black smeared across her eyes and back to meet her shaved hair. She wore heavy leather and furs to keep out the chilly air of the Wilds.

            “I think it’s time we called it a night,” Koss announced.

            “You’re right,” Trits admitted.

            “Kalar,” said Aren, “is there anything we need to keep a watch out for from the Wilds?”

            “No, that this far north,” she answered.

            “Good. And, we don’t really have an extra tent.”

            “That’s fine, I will go grab my tent and come back.”

            She did just that and set up her tent a little further away from the others. Chaska slept right outside. The rest crawled into their tents and let the fire die away.

 

            During the next two days, the recruits got to know Kalar. She didn’t have a horse to ride. Sometimes she rode on Chaska’s back and other times she preferred to walk, keeping pace with the horses. Both days were overcast with a grey sky overhead and a mist greeted them both times they woke up.

            “I heard that some Chasind raid villages or farms,” accused Derek on the second day after meeting Kalar.

            “We do,” Kalar confirmed.

            “You don’t deny it?” asked Derek with a hint of disgust.

            “No, do you deny that the Maker is real?” she asked.

            “The Maker is real,” he sneered.

            “And because he is real, this means that those that have other beliefs are blasphemous heathens who either need to be converted or shunned?” she retorted.

            Derek only glared at her.

            “You people use these stupid beliefs to shun us. We try to live among you, but you won’t have us because we believe in different gods. So, we are left to the most inhospitable place to live, the Wilds. What are we to do? We can barely farm there, and we have to watch how much we hunt and gather. We are left with no choice but to take what we deserve.”

            “What you deserve?” spouted Derek.

            “It’s the same thing you do to the elves in the alienages. You don’t let them have real jobs to be able to take care of themselves. Same thing the dwarves do to their casteless. People in power who cast others down are always surprised when they take to crime. It’s the only way to survive. I’m sure Aren didn’t want to be in the Carta.”

            “You’re right, I didn’t,” Aren confirmed.

            “Stop making us to be the bad guys. You are what is evil, Derek,” Kalar declared.

            Derek tried multiple times to start a coherent sentence and only ended up babbling.

            “Enough, we’re done talking about this.”

            Aren was glad she knew when to end it. He was also amused how quickly she made Derek so angry he couldn’t think straight. Aren smiled at that. Finally, someone put him in his place. Aren remembered the talk he had with Derek back at South Reach. He guessed it didn’t take root. Old habits and all that.

            Not long after the argument, Aren could see the exit of off the Imperial Highway that led straight to Redcliffe. They were only a few hours away. The sun was beginning to set. They could make it just at nightfall if they hurried.

            “Kalar, can Chaska keep up with the horses?” Aren turned around and asked.

            “Yes, for a while. He doesn’t have the stamina that the horses do, though,” she answered.

            “Perfect, we’re only a few hours from Redcliffe. If we hurry, we can make it there by nightfall,” said Aren.

            “Good,” said a relieved Trits. “Let’s hurry. I want to sleep in a nice, warm bed tonight.”

            Kalar climbed on top of Chaska and nodded at Aren.

            “Everyone ready?” he asked.

            Everyone nodded.

            Aren turned back around and kicked at his horse. It launched into a canter and the others followed. Chaska was able to keep up. The arches of the Highway sped by until they took the ramp off and onto the dirt road. Only an hour later and they saw the gates of Redcliffe Village. Once there, the horses slowed to a stop. Two guards stood atop the gate.

            “Hello there,” Aren shouted. “I’m Aren Brosca, Warden-Commander of Ferelden.”

            “Yes, we’ve been expecting you,” one of the guards shouted back. “Please make your way to the castle.”

            The gates opened, and they trotted their steeds along the dirt path past the village, across the bridge and into the castle courtyard. After they dismounted, they started taking their packs off of the horses. A man in armor came down the stair from the castle proper. Guards came from the sides to gather the horses and lead them into the stables.

            “Good evening, Warden-Commander, I’m the seneschal,” said the man.

            “Good evening to you as well,” Aren greeted, “where is Arl Eamon and Bann Teagan?”

            “Arl Eamon is still staying in Denerim for the time being. Bann Teagan returned to his village in the meantime. I have been overseeing Redcliffe in their absence,” replied the seneschal.

            “Pleasure to meet you,” said Aren.

            “You as well. We have prepared rooms for you and your companions in the castle, only the best rooms for the Wardens. We weren’t sure how many to expect. We have only three available. However, we can move more beds into the rooms.”

            “That would be wonderful, thank you,” said Aren. He turned around to the Wardens and said, “We will put the girls together in one room.”

            “Yay! We can do each other’s hair,” said Trits, gleefully.

            Kalar looked a bit annoyed and said, “No one does my hair but me. Do you know how much I have to do to make it look this good?”

            “Derek, Aland and Landon will be in a room, and then Koss, Valan, Krin and I will be in one.”

            Landon looked a bit hurt. Aren whispered to Trits, “Will Krin be okay in a room without you?”

            “He will be fine, especially with Koss, Valan and you.”

            Aren nodded to Trits. He walked over to Landon and said, “I put you in a room with Derek because you and Aland are the only ones that he does will with. Anyone else and something bad might happen.”

            “I understand,” said Landon. They smiled at each other.

            The Wardens grabbed their packs and followed the seneschal to their rooms.

           

            The sun shined bright between small strands of clouds that drifted lazily across the sky. Auburn cliffs rose sharply at either end of the village. People bustled about from the Chantry, to the open market to different shops. Aren was glad to see that Redcliffe village had been rebuilt and the people were back to their lives. According to the seneschal, it had only taken a year to be fully rebuilt. They even had some new people move in, mainly from Lothering.

            Once the Wardens had been shown their rooms, they went straight to bed. All of them were exhausted from the trip from South Reach to Redcliffe. Trits, Derek, Aland and Krin were only too excited to sleep in a real bed after a week and a half of sleeping in tents. Aland said that he would make sure to get extra padding for his bedroll. For Kalar, it was her first time sleeping in a bed. She marveled at the softness of the bed sheets. She had also never seen a pillow or experienced it. She slept like a bear, just like Chaska. Both were asleep in a matter of minutes and hardly woke up during the night. Aren enjoyed the night getting to know Valan and Koss more. Krin chirped up now and then, but mostly stayed quiet. He had begun to feel more comfortable in the group. His demeanor was more relaxed.

            They had decided that they would spend the whole day at Redcliffe, preparing for the trip through the Frostbacks into Orzammar. Aren dreaded it. It would be more than recruitment now. He hoped that dealing with his enemies there wouldn’t resort to killing, but he knew that rarely what he hoped for happened. At least he had new-found allies.

            Derek and Aland were visiting the Chantry and any nobles around town. Derek was most likely securing any alliances he could. Aland kept pestering him to go to the tavern for a drink. He responded that it was too early for one. Trits and Krin were staying with Koss and marveling at the different wares around the market. Sethy and Valan went on their own to find supplies they needed for the trip. Their clan had to pass through the mountains occasionally, so they knew what they would need. Kalar tagged along with them to provide any insight she could provide. Aren decided he would spend some time alone. After he had announced that, Landon told him he would come with. It was a definite statement, and not up for debate. Aren welcomed the company. Barkspawn barked to say he was coming along to. To which, Aren petted him.

            At certain parts in the village, Aren would have vivid memories of the undead attack and the Blight. They didn’t bother him that much, but they were still unpleasant. Landon could tell something was wrong, so he asked Aren. The latter told him the story of the undead attack on Redcliffe, how it began and why and how Aren saved the day, again.

            “I heard of the attack, but obviously not from the hero,” Landon flirted.

            Aren rolled his eyes and smiled, “I did what I thought was right. I’m sure most people would.”

            “You’d be surprised. Some are definite heroes and others aren’t. When you fight with other people during a Blight, you learn who is strong and brave and who are cowards and run. You’re not only strong and brave, you have the skill to kill those that need killing and to stay alive.”

            “I had to learn those skills where I grew up,” said Aren.

            “I know.” Landon looked off at the lake and the castle not far from the shore. “At least they rebuilt. This place is beautiful.”

            “It is. I never really got to stop and take this all in. It’s the reason why I wanted to be alone… or in your company,” said Aren.

            Landon chuckled. “Yes, stop and smell the roses, or whatever.”

            Barkspawn looked up at Aren and barked at him, as if to say, “me too.”

            Aren looked down and smiled as he pet the mabari. “You too,” he chuckled.

            They found a place to sit away from the bustle of people and admired the village, the lake, the cliffs and the castle. Several minutes passed, and Aren finally noticed that Landon had scooted closer. Aren felt a rush of warmth on his cheeks. Did it just get hotter? Aren scratched his cheek and the rubbed the back of his neck. Should he scooch closer? Should he just sit there? He felt so awkward.

            Landon turned towards Aren and looked him directly in the eye. “You know, I just noticed that you don’t have a beard to cover up that cute face.”

            Aren’s cheeks got even warmer. He wasn’t sure how to respond to such a direct compliment. He did a coughing-laugh as he was trying to find the right words. “Uh… um…. Thanks?”

            Landon chuckled with that raspy, breathy chuckling he always did. It made Aren weak. “You’re very much welcome.”

            They held each other’s gaze for what seemed a whole day. Aren wasn’t sure if he should complement him back or kiss him. He had been in a relationship a few times before, but these courting rituals were always such a bother. He was always so awkward. But he loved them at the same time. The butterflies in his stomach, the excitement from the flirting and the gradual holding hands to the first kiss. It made Aren swoon.

            Before anything could happen, Koss returned with the twins. “Sorry to interrupt, but the twins are hungry,” Koss announced.

            Landon was the first to break eye contact, but not before giving Aren a special smile and a wink. Aren’s heart skipped a beat.

            “Hey, you make us sound like kids,” Trits whined.

            “Trits, to me, you’re all kids,” he chuckled.

            “Well, we can head on over to the tavern to eat. I know Aland probably wants a drink,” said Aren.

            “We just need to wait on the others,” said Landon.

            Almost as if being summoned, Derek and Aland showed up.

            “I’m hungry,” Aland announced.

            “Is that code for drink?” Trits teased.

            “Hey, I don’t drink all of the time,” Aland defended himself.

            “Aland, you were pestering me for the past hour to go to the tavern for a drink,” said Derek.

            “What? I heard the Redcliffe as good ale,” said Aland.

            “Uh huh. That’s the excuse you’re going with,” said an unamused Landon.

            “We just need to wait for the other three. They’ll likely have quite a bit of supplies for the trip,” said Aren.

            “Oops. That’s right, we were supposed to get stuff,” said Trits.

            “It’s ok. You guys have never really been out of Denerim. How do you like Redcliffe?” Aren asked.

            “I love it! So many people and so much stuff. The cliffs are actually red,” said Trits.

            “I liked it, too,” Krin agreed.

            “Good, I’m glad,” said Aren.

            Sethy, Valan and Kalar appeared with Chaska behind them.

            “Alright, we bought the supplies we need. It’s a lot, so we will have them deliver it to the castle tomorrow morning,” said Sethy.

            “Thank you. Have you guys also had a chance to explore the village, too?” asked Aren.

            “We have. It’s so fascinating,” said Valan.

            “Good. Now that we’re all here, lets grab something to eat,” said Aren.

 

            The tavern was bustling with customers. Mostly men, but also women sat at tables having drinks and a meal after a hard day of work. Aren didn’t recognize any of the serving staff except for the bartender. He convinced the man to give a round of drinks for free to the militia during that night the undead attacked. Now, there was no impending doom. The atmosphere was not one of men trying to drown their sorrows of death. It was now one of joyful camaraderie. Aren smiled.

            The Wardens all shared a long table. The cooks made a special dinner just for them. Roasted druffalo along with chicken. Plenty of bread, stews and vegetables. Barkspawn had ribs of a druffalo. They all dug in. Koss shared a story of how he once hunted an especially nasty gurgut through a swamp. He hunted it for three days before finally killing it.

            “What a manly story,” Aland commented while raising his glass.

            “Well, thank you. I’m sure a man would appreciate that,” Koss replied.

            Most of the Wardens stopped what they were doing and looked at Koss, confused.

            “You mean to say that you’re not a man?” Aren asked.

            “No, I’m not,” Koss answered.

            “What do you mean?” Derek asked.

            “Is that a qunari thing?” Valan asked as well.

            “The Qun teaches there are only a man and a woman, so no. I’m not a man nor a woman,” Koss clarified. “One of the reasons I left.”

            They all nodded with understanding and went back to their meals.

            “Well, I’m sure you bed a lot of women,” said Aland.

            “I don’t bed anyone,” said Koss.

            “Really?” not even a wife? Or husband?” asked Aland.

            “No. Sex and love aren’t of interest to me,” Koss replied.

            “Oh. Well, you have plenty of friends here,” said Aland. He took a drink of his ale.

            “And I’m sure you have plenty more stories of your time as a mercenary to regale us with,” said Aren.

            “You as well, Hero of Ferelden,” Koss teased.

            “Yeah, share a story with us,” said Trits.

            “Alright, alright, fine. I will tell you the story of how I saved Redcliffe,” Aren relented. He told the same story that he told Landon earlier that day. This time, though, he told it with a flair that a bard would. They all enjoyed the story. Landon simply smiled as he listened, sometimes stealing glances at the other Wardens. Aland, being slightly intoxicated at this point, was especially expressive of his amusement in the story. Trits, Krin and Valan were on the edges of their seats. Everyone else listened with interest.

            “Wow. That was awesome!” said Trits.

            “Best part is that it’s real,” said Valan.

            “Well, I’m glad you guys enjoyed it,” Aren chuckled.

            “I’m sure you have plenty more stories to share,” said Koss.

            A shout came from the bar. They were so engrossed in Aren’s story, none of the Wardens were aware that an argument was happening not far from them. They all turned to look. A woman held a man’s arm behind his back, twisting it painfully. The woman was in full leather armor. A mabari, growling at the man, stood beside her.

            “Now, why don’t run along and get out of here. You’re upsetting the serving girls. And me,” the armored woman said. She shoved him, and he fell over.

            “You bitch!” he shouted. “I have soldiers here.”

            “What? Your feeble mercenaries? I’ve known some far better and nobler than you lot,” she replied.

            “Men, get her!”

            Four men came from one table and rushed her. She gave a signal to her mabari to stand back. Two men came at her from the front. She dodged both of their blows and used their momentum to slam them on the ground.

            One man was about to come from behind, but he grunted, giving away his position. He was diving to take her down, but the woman spun out of the way and gave swift kick to the side of his head. An audible thunk sounded.

            The fourth man met her face to face and gave a mighty punch. She dodged it, gave small kick to the back of his knee and followed up with three jabs to his jaw. He caught her fist when she tried for a fourth and punched her square in the nose.

            She stumbled back, clutching her face. After a few seconds she withdrew her hands and brought them up, ready to fight. Aren recognized the berserker battle fury. She charged at the man who had just punched her and jumped up. A flying kick landed square in his chest. He flew back.

            The first two men charged again. The woman dodged and blocked of few of their punches. They left themselves open and she jabbed at their guts. As they doubled over, she hooked with both of her arms causing them to knock their heads together. Then, she brought both of her elbows down on their heads. They were out cold.

            “Come on men, this isn’t worth it anymore,” the mercenary commanded. The two conscious men dragged the other two out of the tavern.

            The armored woman stood there, chest heaving. Her rage drained away and she winced, finally feeling the pain of the fight. She went back over to her spot at the bar and chugged her pint of ale. Leaving a few coins on the bar, she petted her mabari and began walking to the stairs, likely to her room.

            Aren left his chair and walked after the woman. He caught up to her on the second floor. “Hey, miss?” he called.

            She looked over at him a little surprised. “Yes?” she asked.

            “It looks like you know how to fight,” he began. “And I recognize that fury, along with you mabari, I’d guess that you’re an ash warrior.”

            She looked down at the Warden insignia on his tabard. “Yes, I am. And I guess you’re a Warden.”

            “I am. I’m looking to recruit for the Wardens,” he said.

            “Really?” she asked. She looked down to the floor, pondering. After a moment, she looked back up at him. “I would like to join.”

            “I was just going to ask that. You know how to fight. I must warn you though, being Warden isn’t easy –”

            “Being an ash warrior isn’t either. Look, I fought in the Blight and I want to join. It’s better than the life I have now,” she snapped.

            “I’m sorry. I just want you to understand the dangers and the life of a Warden. But, it seems you’re sure of this. I won’t say no.”

            “Good.”

            “Well, the rest of us are staying at the castle. We will be leaving tomorrow morning.”

            “I’ll have my things packed and ready to travel.”

            “Alright. We will see you tomorrow then.”

            She nodded and went into her room. Aren turned back around and went down to the other Wardens. The tavern had returned to normal. He sat back down. They were finishing their meals and drinks and finally they turned to him.

            “She will be joining us as well,” Aren announced.

            “She looks like she can handle herself,” Aland pointed out.

            “She’s an ash warrior. She definitely will,” said Aren. “If we’re done eating, we should probably head back to the castle for the night.”

 

            The next day, the Wardens prepared for their journey through the Frostbacks to Orzammar. The supplies that they had bought were already in the courtyard of the castle. They saddled their horses and secured the supplies. Their steeds had been well tended to and most were in a good mood and ready to travel. As Aren was fastening the stirrups, Barkspawn nuzzled Aren’s side. He smiled and petted the mabari’s head. Once the horses and Wardens were ready and had eaten, they saddled up and headed down the road. The Imperial Highway would take them half of the way.

            When they reached the end of the village and the beginning of the Highway, they saw Nadine on a horse with her mabari. She was waiting for them and looked like she was ready for traveling. Scanning her, Aren saw she looked forlorn. It was almost as if she was saying goodbye to Redcliffe. He still didn’t know her story, other than she was an Ash warrior.

            Once they got to the beginning of the Highway, Aren greeted her.

            “Sorry about last night,” she apologized. “Sometimes it’s difficult for me to put down the rage. Especially because I didn’t kill them. Usually killing helps.”

            “It’s ok. I know the berserker rage. I’m assuming you’re ready to travel?” said Aren.

            “Yes. Where are we going exactly?” she asked.

            “We’re heading to Orzammar,” Aren replied.

            “I’ve never been. This will be an experience. I’ve heard they have the best ale,” she said.

            “Yes, I’ve heard that too,” said Aren with a hint of annoyance. “Alright. Let’s be off. We will be traveling for about a week.” The recruits followed their commander and set off on the Highway.

            Only a few hours had passed, and already the silence was unbearable again. Aren liked his alone time, but when he was with people, he expected them to talk. Especially when someone new had joined the group. His little merry band of misfits. Aren smiled at that. Of course, Nadine was probably the reason why it was so quiet.

            “Nadine, where are you from?” Aren broke the silence.

            “I’m from Highever, actually,” Nadine answered.

            “What were you doing in Redcliffe?” Aren asked.

            “Well, I left Highever and joined the Ferelden army,” she began. “During the Blight, I did something that they could hang me for… So, I joined the ash warriors. I already knew how to fight. They introduced me to Torv here, and we bonded. Then they taught me the berserker rage. After the Blight, I went to Redcliffe to help them rebuild. I also figured that they could use some protection seeing what they’ve been through.”

            “That’s very noble of you,” said Aren.

            “What was it that you did?” asked Aland.

            “I… don’t want to talk about that,” said Nadine.

            “Well, why leave Redcliffe and join the Wardens if they need protection?” asked Landon.

            “They don’t anymore. It’s been almost three years since anything has happened to them. They’ll be fine without me,” Nadine answered.

            “What about all of the stupid men who need to be taught a lesson?” asked Trits.

            Most of the women in the group chuckled at that. “I taught a lot of the women there how to stand up for themselves. Also, that is rare now. Hence, everyone in the tavern staring,” explained Nadine.

            “That explains why leaving Redcliffe, but why the Wardens?” asked Aren.

            “It seems a good place to rebuild my life. Let’s leave it at that,” said Nadine.

            They did leave it at that. The other recruits shared their lives with Nadine and she did as well, if a bit guardedly. She loved Torv, that much was clear. She always had a smile when she looked at him. Trits looked up to Nadine after she took down those men in the tavern. Nadine and Aland were sharing drinks they brought along, they also talked about different kinds of drinks they’ve tried. They were hitting it off.

            The rest of the day went by quickly. They stopped to eat once and then at the end of the day, they found a small cliff face nestled close to the Highway and made camp in between. They had brought enough food to last them most of the trip to Orzammar. Aren wasn’t as anxious about running out of food this time. Now they had Kalar and Valan to hunt if need be.

            While they sat around the fire eating, their animal friends were getting to know each other. Barkspawn was playing with Torv while Chaska nipped and swatted at them occasionally. Aren smiled. If the recruits couldn’t all get along, at least these three would. He could tell the two mabari apart due to their different kaddis designs.

            The next day, they shared stories from their childhood. Derek loved books. He read any kind of books from tales to history books. He couldn’t get enough as a child. When he was a bit older, his mother and father took him to social gatherings with other land owners. This was when he started reading more books that had political intrigue, he told them. It now all made sense to Aren why Derek was the way he was.

            Aland was always running after his older brother. He would do whatever he was doing. Aland really looked up to him. Whatever he did though, his parents didn’t give him that much attention. It all went to his brother. Aland told some of his childhood, Derek and Landon filled in the rest. Being friends for so long, they knew quite a bit about Aland to tell the others what he didn’t want to tell.

            Landon loved his family. He would always spend time with his mother and father when they weren’t busy. He would help them with chores sometimes. When he wasn’t helping his parents, or studying, he was playing with his older sister and younger brother. All three of them got along and they all looked out for each other. They would go on adventures around the docks in Gwaren or venture some ways outside of town, but never too far. Aren was jealous of Landon’s family and childhood. His was nothing like that. A drunken mother and an absent father, it wasn’t good. There were some moments that he held dear in his memory, but they were small islands in a sea of horrible memories.

            Trits was the one out of the twins who talked the most about their past. Growing up elven in a city full of humans was tough. They did have elf friends in the alienage, but Trits always ventured out. She got in trouble almost every day and would fight anyone who treated her poorly. Krin added some details or corrected her from time to time, much to her annoyance. She knew he was right. Most of the time, Krin would help his father and mother in the shop, cleaning or organizing. His mother always helped the customers while his father made their wares.

            Koss told of childhood in the Qun. They asked their tamassaran, all sorts of questions. They were relentless. Surprisingly, to the other wardens, she didn’t get mad at Koss. She answered their questions the best she could with patience. Derek was very surprised by this. Koss learned a great deal during childhood. Despite their curiosity, she made them into a warrior, but they never lost their insatiable hunger for knowledge. A few years after they were a full adult and a soldier, they deserted. Koss told the story. At night, they slipped out of the fort they were staying in. They knew what to say to get as far as they could. The next day, when their fellow soldiers realized they wasn’t there, they set out after them. Koss knew that eventually they would catch them. Rather than running, they found a spot in Rivain that was defensible. Koss didn’t kill any of them, but they subdued most of the soldiers. The leader called them off and let Koss be. They all found their story fascinating.

            Sethy and Valan told the others about their clan. Their keeper wasn’t one to summon demons. In fact, Sethy knew him well enough to say that he wouldn’t fall for any demon. She surmised that this demon bided its time and was especially crafty. Their keeper was particularly powerful with magic, he was even a dreamer. Valan reminisced about his family and spending time with them. Teaching his younger brother to hunt until that fateful accident. He became quiet after that. Kalar and Nadine gave their condolences and told him that mistakes happen, even ones as bad as that.

            Kalar told of the Chasind and how they grow up. Each person must contribute to the whole, as they live in a rough environment. Some become hunters, like Kalar. Others forage for food and plants for uses as balms. Those that are born with magic, which is rare, are taught from the shaman of the village.

            Nadine told her childhood in living in Highever, one of the most powerful places in Ferelden. Her parents were well-off and had a good business making all sorts of food. Nadine wanted something more exciting than that. She left for the army as soon as she was able to. Her childhood was mostly boring, she told everyone.

            By the end of the day, they had all shard their childhood, even Aren. He felt as if this little band was finally getting along and eventually put past their differences and become a family, even Derek and Trits. Something happened when you fought side by side someone. A bond of sorts formed. He hoped that would happen with everyone.

            They had found another spot to camp. Just like every night before, they carried out their routine. Just like a family again, they knew how to work together to perform tasks. Each person did something to help. Set up the tents, chop some firewood, start the fire, take out the food and eat. They had their routine down. After eating, they went to bed.

            Aren had been asleep for an hour or two when he heard a noise. He woke up and listened. Was that a moan? From a woman? He heard another noise. A man moaning? Aren crawled out of his bedroll and stuck his head out of his tent. Landon and Valan did the same. The fire they had was only glowing embers now. He could hear more clearly. It was definitely a man and a woman having sex. He looked at the tents and knew who it was. Aland and Nadine. He looked over at the other two men and they all smirked and pulled their heads back in their tents. Aren smiled, shook his head, and went back to bed.

 

            The Highway had ended as the road carved its way up into the mountains. After a few hours of a steady incline, the air became colder and a slightly thinner. Thankfully, it didn’t thin too much. The horses, mabari, Chaska and the Wardens could all breathe just fine. The winds picked up and snow started blowing. Visibility lessened to a degree. Traveling would be slower for the time being.

            Some snow came down on their left side from the mountain tops. Aren feared an avalanche. A bit more snow and now pebbles came down again. He looked up and could only see clouds. Then, a shadow moved. Aren held to the hilt of his sword but didn’t draw it.

            A man slid down the snow and plopped onto the road. He picked himself up and brushed off the snow and dust form his leathers. Once satisfied, he looked up and saw the Wardens. He smiled. “Hello, travelers,” he said.

            Aren blinked in surprise. “Hello,” he said back.

            “You’re probably wondering what I was doing,” said the man. “I was traveling and lost my way a bit.”

            “You lost your way. Over a mountain,” said Trits.

            “Did he hit his head while he was traveling?” asked Aland.

            “No, I didn’t,” said the man. “Mountains are fine, its rivers I hate.”

            “Has he not heard of roads,” Nadine whispered an aside to Aland.

            “My name is Garod Stormwall. And you guys are the oddest bunch of travelers I have ever seen.”

            “I’m Aren Brosca, Warden-Commander of Ferelden and these are my recruits.”

            “Warden-Commander you say?” said Garod. “Yes, I’ve heard of you. Some of my friends joked about what your legendmark would be. Some say Archdemon-slayer, although that one is long and stupid. One said Blight-queller, that one’s better.”

            “I’m sorry, legendmark? And who are your friends?” asked Aren.

            “A legendmark, a title given to someone who performs a great feat,” explained Garod. “My mistake, I’m an Avvar.”

            “Oh, that makes much more sense now,” said Aren. “Although, I don’t know a lot about your culture.”

            “Odd, do they not sing tales of the Avvar in Orzammar? We sing tales of the dwarves,” said Garod.

            “Not really, no,” said Aren.

            “Ah, tis no matter,” said Garod.

            “Where were you traveling to?” asked Aren.

            “I…don’t really know,” Garod admitted.

            “Then how did you get lost?” asked Nadine.

            “Well, ok, I wasn’t really traveling, I was wandering,” said Garod

            “Wandering? Aren’t you worried about food and water?” asked Aren.

            “The Lady and the Father will provide for me. They always have,” said Garod. “Where are you traveling to?”

            “Orzammar, unfortunately,” said Aren.

            “And you said that these are recruits?” asked Garod.

            “Yes, I’m actually recruiting for the Wardens,” said Aren.

            “I see, and what does it take for one to be a Warden?” asked Garod.

            “Well, willingness to fight darkspawn for one,” said Aren.

            “I’ve already fought darkspawn when they tried invading my hold,” said Garod.

            “Are you thinking of joining?” asked Aren.

            “Maybe, I left my hold after the darkspawn. They… took something from me,” said Garod.

            “I understand,” said Kalar. “I don’t have anything to go back to.”

            “The hold is still there, but not all of my people,” said Garod.

            “Another one without a place to belong and a vendetta against darkspawn,” said Aren. “Would you like to join?”

            Garod looked up the mountains and contemplated the offer. After a few moments, he looked back at Aren and said with finality, “yes, I will join the Wardens.”

            “Perfect, you can probably share horses with us until we reach Orzammar, only a few days away, unless this weather has anything to say about that,” said Aren.

            “I can guide you, I know the Frostbacks,” said Garod.

            “That would be wonderful,” said Aren.

           

            During the next few days, they got to know the latest recruit. Many of them asked about his culture, as they did about each other’s. Garod told them all about the Avvar. Their pantheon of gods that are actually spirits in the Fade. Derek only made a passing remark about the dangers of worshipping spirits. To which, Garod told them about their relationships with spirts, from the augur and how they train their mages to offerings and blessings. Apparently, his hammer had a few spirits bound within it. Appropriately, Derek had a conniption, being so close to spirits. Garod laughed and explained that they only came out when Garod wanted them to. Spirits also came to his aid when he fought well in battle. Which is how he earned his legendmark, he said. During the Blight, the darkspawn attacked his hold. He stood up upon the wall and fought the Darkspawn as they crawled up it. The spirits and his hammer created a storm of ice and lighting around him.

            Sethy and Valan explained their culture to the others. How they travel in aravels and their relationship to the halla. Vallaslin on their faces and how it represents their gods, their own pantheon and how they train mages were also shared. Derek bit his tongue again. Trits on the other hand, was fascinated with the Dalish.

            Finally, Kalar revealed the mysterious Chasind to the rest of them. The Chasind pantheon comprised of gods of nature. Four of them were based on the seasons, four women with heads of animals. Creatures of all sorts were deeply seated in their culture.

            These discussions led to deeper understanding between the Wardens. Koss even enlightened them about the Qun. Of course, they loved hearing about the Chasind and the Avvar as they had never encountered them before. Aren was loving the discussion and the bonds they were forming. Derek was seething on his horse. His tongue was probably in small little bits with how much he had to bite his tongue. Either he would begin to tolerate the differences, or he would break.

            The traveling went by quickly and miraculously, they had more than enough food even with Garod. They had finally made it to the entrance to Orzammar. Aren had so many emotions. He was anxious and dreading going in there. He would have to deal with his opponents and ensure the safety of his house and his family. He was stressing about the situation so much he was starting to feel sick to his stomach. Landon had noticed and asked Sethy to see if she could use any healing magic. She said she knew of some herbs that would help, but Aren had to relax on his own. Landon helped him focus on the good of going to Orzammar, like his little nephew Endrin. Aren smiled at that.

            That night, he went over what could happen with the others. An assassination was always a possibility, they needed to keep their eyes peeled. Sethy said that she could magically protect Aren. Once they got in, they would need to get to a safe place to establish a base, then find whoever was against him and deal with them quickly. Bloodshed was a last resort. After planning and trying to settle Aren as much as possible, they went into their tents and went to sleep.


End file.
